#I liked folding them but I didn't have anywhere to put them or anything to do with them

[kirby-the-gorb]

[davepetea]

we get to help dirk make his furries!! he wood say "theyre not furries theyre animatronics" but theyre litteral furry robots ok trust us

he also only drinks black cawffee and hes makwing us drink it becaws appawrently "it helps you focus" but we feel like this is some kind of animal ab*se

[the-case-book-of-fanfiction]

Bob Seger

Ship: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Is there a handbook for what to do when your crush walks into your store to buy a gift for his girlfriend? There should be!

Word Count: 5,432 words

Warnings: Stancy, Steve being deeply in love and then getting his heart broken, brief mention of Steve's asshole dad, pining reader, hurt/comfort, Tommy & Carol, language, innuendo

Note: Inspired in part by Steve's rendition of Old Time Rock & Roll.

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Nancy hadn't been herself, not since Barb disappeared, and her mood had only been getting worse every day. Steve could feel her retreating into herself, hiding from the world and from herself and from him. He could feel Tommy and Carol getting progressively more frustrated with her (and with him for putting up with it) with every passing day.

And it's not like Steve blamed Nancy. Her best friend had gone missing while Nancy hung out with people Barb wasn't the biggest fan of. And, to rub salt in an open wound, Nancy had been having sex with Steve while Barb disappeared.

Steve felt a little guilty, to say the least. He'd had the thought of If I hadn't wanted to sleep with Nancy so bad, she would have gone home with Barb and they'd both be safe. But after a while, he wasn't so sure about that. The longer he thought about it, the more he became convinced that if Nancy had gone with Barb, they both would have gone missing.

Whether it was through his own guilt or because he wanted to make Nancy feel better, he wasn't quite sure, Steve found himself driving to the record store just off Main Street after school got out. He'd blocked out the noise of Tommy and Carol bickering, Tommy in the passenger seat and Carol leaning forward from the back seat, too busy trying to remember which bands had played from the radio the night he was studying at Nancy's house, and whether or not Nancy had actually liked them. He didn't want to screw up his little surprise by getting her music she wouldn't listen to—or a vinyl she already owned. Maybe he should have discreetly snooped through her pile of records before he'd made up his mind to do this...

Tommy sharply elbowed Steve in the ribs. Before Steve could snap at him, he said, "You're overthinking this, man. She's either gonna pretend to love it and not actually care, or she's just gonna not care."

Behind them, Carol giggled. It sounded far more sinister than it should have.

Steve glared at him for a second before he made the turn into the store's parking lot. "You're no help, you realize that?" He parked the car and turned to the two of them. "You're gonna stay here and wait, got it? And don't do anything stupid, I'll make you clean the back seat this time."

Carol grinned. "What if it's the passenger seat?"

"Or the driver's," Tommy added, leaning back to kiss Carol, before Steve could snap that the passenger's seat was Nancy's seat. Steve felt his throat constrict.

"Do not get it on in my fucking car," he warned, "or I'm never driving you anywhere ever again."

He got out, slamming the door behind him, and sent a warning glare back over his shoulder. Tommy flipped him off through the windshield. Beside Steve, an elderly woman gasped in offense and Steve winced.

"Sorry about him," he muttered, but the woman was already scurrying off into her own vehicle. Steve sighed and pushed open the front door to the record shop.

A little bell above the door chimed once as he swung the door open, and then again as it closed behind him. Steve had only been in the store a handful of times, but he loved it more and more with every visit. The walls were plastered in old vinyls, displayed so that the name of each band was readable. No vinyl was the same color, some of them blue, some red, some multicolor, but all of them were different. A small gold plaque designated the oldest vinyl the store had on the walls, which was a reddish Vocalion from 1922 and was positioned directly above the door.

Rows and rows of alphabetized vinyls spread throughout the store, which was bigger than it looked from the storefront. In the lefthand corner nearest the door, a cashier's desk was set up, though there was no employee behind it. A plastic sign read I'm in the back! I'll be back soon!

Steve headed for the aisles of vinyls, then recognized what was playing over the speakers—Bob Seger's Night Moves.

Humming as he flipped through the stacks, Steve didn't notice the door to the back open, or you walk out of it and back to your desk.

"Mmm, sweet summertime, summertime," Steve sang, keeping his voice low, still embarrassed by his voice, an instinct his father made sure he would never shake.

But you heard it, even with the volume of the radio. You looked up from the desk, gaze scanning the rows. You spotted the back of Steve's head and recognized him immediately. That hair was unmistakable.

Heat burned in your belly. Suddenly, you really wished your coworker hadn't gone home just ten minutes earlier, complaining of nausea. If she'd just stuck around a few more minutes...you wouldn't have to face your long-time crush who was absolutely not available, happily dating Nancy Wheeler and unlikely to leave her any time soon.

You resisted the urge to hide your face in your hands. Sure, you'd liked him since middle school, long before he'd become part of the popular crowd and back when his hair was still a mess that hid his eyes from the world, and yes, you had two classes with him, but it's not like he'd know who you were, right? You'd keep relative anonymity and he would remain none the wiser of your long-standing admiration of him.

But then the song changed to The Fire Down Below and Steve was shimmying where he stood, singing the line "Here comes hot Nancy, she's steppin' right on time" with the hugest grin on his face.

You sighed. The school, your best friends, the entire senior year was right—Steve Harrington was down bad for Nancy Wheeler.

The tiniest bit of hope that he might one day notice you was dashed every time you heard that loving croon of his voice every time he sang Nancy's name.

This is why we don't get our hopes up, you told yourself, echoing a sentiment your best friend had drilled into you ever since Steve became the ladies' man that made him so popular in high school. Not that it erased the previous middle school years of drooling over Steve, back before anyone else had really considered him attractive.

You watched as Steve meticulously went through every record in the store, clearly searching for something specific. You normally would have gotten up and approached a customer taking this long, but it was Steve. You knew the instant you got up from your stool, your legs would give out underneath you. And if that didn't happen, you'd walk into a shelf on your way over to him. And if that didn't happen either, you'd start stuttering the moment you tried to talk to him. And if that didn't happen, you'd turn bright red and combust on the spot when he either asked for your help or turned you away.

Too stuck in your head, you didn't even realize the record had stopped playing until you heard Steve's singing stop. A pang went through you at the sound of silence—Steve's voice was almost more soothing than the music itself.

You turned around and dug through your pile of vinyls the store let you play until you found another Bob Seger—the album he'd released last year. Steve had been singing Bob Seger, and you desperately wanted him to keep singing.

You cleaned off the record before placing the needle down. A few bars into Even Now, you turned back around and squeaked, jumping in surprise.

Steve was standing at your desk, a pleasant but awkward smile on his face.

"Uh...hi," he said. "Sorry if I scared you."

You blinked at him and cleared your throat, hoping your voice didn't come out squeaky. "It's...it's fine. Can I help you with something?"

"Uh, please, I'm looking for—" He snapped his fingers. "You're in my chemistry class, aren't you?" You nodded, meekly adding that you were also in English together, and he beamed. "I knew I recognized you from somewhere!"

"Yeah, uh... Hi, Steve," you said. "You said you were looking for...?"

Steve shook himself out. "Oh, yeah, um... I'm trying to find a record for Nancy, my girlfriend, because I want to cheer her up after...everything. I'm sure you've heard about it."

The tiredness in his voice surprised you. But you nodded without bringing it up. "I have. How's she holding up?"

Steve sighed. "Not...fantastically. That's why I'm doing this, I want to get her something to take her mind off things."

You raised your brows. "So you decided on a record?"

Steve shrugged, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. "I thought it would be something we could dance to, and that that might make her feel better."

Your heart squeezed. How are you so sweet? "Alright, makes sense. What does she like to listen to usually?"

Steve shut his eyes as if thinking for a moment, then said, "She likes ABBA and Michael Jackson, she has a Fleetwood Mac tape but only ever listens to Rhiannon, but she sings under her breath every time Journey comes on the radio, doesn't matter what song it is. She's got Madonna, Bowie, Blondie, and The Beatles already as tapes and vinyls, so I don't want to get her those."

You blinked at him. "You really do pay attention to everything, don't you?"

Steve smiled shyly. "I...I guess so, when it comes to Nancy."

You left the back of the desk, hoping you weren't visibly shaking too much. "Let's go find you a Journey vinyl, okay? They just released a new album a few months ago, I'm pretty sure we've got it on vinyl..."

Steve followed you to the J section and the two of you started flipping through, both of you softly singing along to Love's The Last To Know as you did.

Halfway through the song and completely through the Js section, you interrupted the song with a gasp.

"I know where it is! Wait here," you told him, and hurried into the back room. You dug through the most recently delivered box of records until you saw the familiar blue album cover of Frontiers, letting out a victory cry as you grabbed it.

Steve was leaning on the shelf, still singing "We lost our way and our love's the last to know" so mournfully you wondered what heartbreak he'd been through before.

"I got it!" you said, grinning and holding the record aloft.

Steve beamed. "Thanks! I really appreciate it. I know I was kind of...out of my depth for a bit there."

You shrugged. "Eh, that's nothing. I've had people come in here demanding records we don't carry from bands that only just released music." You rolled your eyes. "'No, sir, we don't carry Metallica, and even if we did, the album came out last week, so we wouldn't have it yet anyway!'"

Steve snorted with laughter, handing you cash to pay for the vinyl. "Let me guess, it was the Munson kid."

"The Munson kid," you confirmed.

"Thanks again," Steve said, though he didn't seem inclined to head out the door.

"Any time," you said, instantly regretting the words because if you saw Steve at your workplace more than this, you were going to have a heart attack, but you paired the words with a kind smile anyway.

"See you in class tomorrow," he said, stepping out the door and waving goodbye. You watched him go, putting the record in the back seat, snapping at Tommy and Carol in his car, and pulling out of the parking lot.

You let go a tense, nervous breath. The pain in your chest eased. Well, at least Steve knew of you now. And even if his dedication to Nancy was unfailing, at least you might get to talk to him now, even if it only worsened the ache in your heart.

~❊~

Steve skipped third block.

The entire school seemed to be talking about why—or at least, his entire gym class, who had told a story about Billy Hargrove getting in his face the entire basketball game, and then Nancy dragging him out of the class to "talk" about something. At first, everyone had assumed they were banging in the locker rooms, until somebody reminded them Nancy hadn't been in first block, and she never skipped, and that Steve usually drove her to school—but he hadn't missed first block. Then when he'd come back, upset and angry, from his talk with Nancy, people started to put a story together.

You weren't sure you wanted to believe the story, or the many versions of the story, that were floating around you chemistry class. It didn't line up with what you knew of Steve, or what you knew of his relationship with Nancy, most of which you heard straight from him.

But then again...

You shook yourself out of your head, your gaze straying back toward Steve's empty seat. You sighed, pulling your notebook toward you and copying down the notes on the board as neat as you could—undoubtedly you'd need to give them to Steve when he decided to come back to class.

But when your best friend came into the class, handing your teacher a doctor's note, her wide eyes already told you Steve wasn't coming back today.

She sat down beside you, hissing your name. You looked at her. "What? What's wrong?"

"Is there a reason I just saw Steve Harrington crying in his car?" she whispered to you.

Your eyes went huge. Whatever had happened between him and Nancy, it wasn't good. "Keep your voice down and don't tell anyone else about that," you said.

She flipped her notebook to a blank page and started writing. "You better fill me in on everything I missed today," she said.

"Obviously, but only once I know exactly what happened," you said. "Which means only once Steve tells me what happened. However long that takes."

~❊~

It became painfully clear that Steve didn't want to talk—to anyone. He snapped at anyone who tried to bring it up with him, and his mood was waspish. The situation was made worse by the rumors spread by Tommy and Carol—that Nancy had only been with Steve for his money and the sex; that she left because Steve wasn't good enough for her; that she was cheating on him with Jonathan.

You knew that the jibes about Jonathan hit Steve a little too close to home. The same rumor had circulated last year when Will and Barb went missing, but this time, you were almost positive they were true.

Nancy was entirely unbothered by the whole thing. Seeing her prance around with Jonathan, not caring that doing so was hurting Steve more than anything, made your blood boil.

On your way to the record store for another one of your slow closing shifts, a week after Steve skipped chem class, you saw the two of them walking together along the sidewalk. You rolled your eyes at them. You had once thought Nancy to be the luckiest girl in the world: smart, pretty, and dating the hottest man Hawkins had to offer. Now you were certain she was the most careless, throwing it all away for a mediocre man.

Steve's car was in the store's parking lot when you arrived. You parked next to him, looking over to find him in the driver's seat, staring into his lap.

You got out and knocked on his window. "Steve? You okay?" He looked up, sporting red-rimmed eyes. You could hear Bob Seger's Comin' Home playing quietly on his radio. "Oh, Steve..."

Steve got out of his car. Voice quiet and rough, he asked, "Can I hang out for a while?"

"Yeah," you said. "Whatever you need."

His lip trembled. "A...a hug?" His voice as meek and barely there. But you heard it and the request made your heart break. You enveloped him in a tight hug, letting him soften into your hold. You remained that way until Steve decided he was done, not caring how many of your classmates walked by, staring in wonder at Steve clinging to you, new gossip already burning on their tongues.

~❊~

A good day meant boppier music at the record store as soon as you started your shift and shoved your coworker from the mid-afternoon shift out the door. So you swapped out all the mellow music in the stack of records beside your record player with music with a good beat that you could dance to while you restocked and reshelved.

Not even half an hour into your shift, the Naked Eyes record spun into Always Something There To Remind Me. You turned up the volume as high as you could without destroying the speakers and being chewed out by your managers, singing along and dancing by yourself while you worked.

"Well, how can I forget you, girl? When there is always something there to remind me!" You finished stacking your records in the aisle and turned back for a new pile. "Always something there to remind me. I was born to love her, and I'll never be free, you'll always be a part of— Steve!" You careened into his chest, grateful you weren't holding anything, because it all would have dropped to the floor. Steve's arms looped around you, stopping you from falling. "Don't sneak up on me, you scared me!"

"The doorbell rung!"

"Well, I didn't hear it!" You finally looked up at him, heart beating wildly out of your chest at the feeling of his chest against yours, his arms around your waist. You realized he looked downright miserable. "What happened?"

He sighed. "Remember how I said I was gonna try and patch things up with Nance?"

"Yeah..."

Steve's lower lip started to tremble. "It...it didn't go well."

Your heart dropped to your feet. "Oh, Steve, I'm...I'm so sorry."

He sniffled. "It's, uh, it's over. She...she doesn't love me, has never loved me, I'm still bullshit, and she's been sleeping with Jonathan. So..." He heaved a heavy sigh. "It's over. Completely, totally, officially over."

"Steve," you whispered. "I'm so sorry, honey. Is there anything I can do?"

He smiled, lips trembling and eyes watering. "Change the song?" The words came out with a little hiccup and a laugh.

You realized what the song was about. "Oh! Yeah, sure, right—sorry. It's such an upbeat song in the actual music, I didn't even think about the words!" You untangled yourself from his arms to change the record. "What are you in the mood for?"

"Nothing romantic, please," he said, sitting down on your stool. "And, after you're done..."

You looked at him, sensing his hesitation. "Yeah?"

"Can I have another hug?"

You smiled at him, looping your arms around his back where he sat. He fell into you, burying his head in your shirt. "Of course, Steve."

You held onto Steve as tightly as he held onto you, praying he wouldn't notice the fast beat of your heart while he wallowed in his grief. It was a strange feeling, for Steve to be hiding from the world, form Nancy, from his broken heart in your arms, all while you harbored a horribly deep crush on him and a secret, guilty delight that it was over with Nancy.

"I just..." Steve huffed, clearly trying his best not to sob into your shirt. "I don't know where I went wrong. I don't know why I wasn't good enough."

Without really meaning to, you put your hand in Steve's hair. "Does there need to be a reason? Some people just aren't meant for each other, Steve."

Steve looked up at you with his red rimmed eyes, tears on his lash line. He hesitated a moment and then said, "If I tell you something...promise me you won't just...laugh at me."

Your heart broke for him. How many times had he told Tommy or Carol or, what the hell, even Nancy something, only to be laughed at, for him to ask that of you? "Of course I won't laugh at you, Steve." You squeezed his shoulder. "Why would I laugh at you?"

He didn't answer your question. "I know it sounds...ridiculous, but...I just—" He sighed. "I thought Nancy was the one. I've never been happier with a girl before, and she was honest, she was smart, she was determined, she had goals, she was nothing like the girls I was with before, and she made me feel alive! I thought for sure that I was... That I was maybe gonna spend the rest of my life with her."

You bit your lip. "There was no maybe about it, was there, Steve?"

He sighed, letting his head fall back into you. You muffled your grunt as he hid his face in your stomach, his arms sliding up your back and hold you closer to him. "No," he mumbled into the fabric of your shirt.

You smoothed your hand through his perfect hair and kissed the top of his head. You froze, hearing his tiny intake of breath. "Oh, I'm...I'm sorry, that was kind of...automatic, I guess?"

Steve peeked up at you and tugged you closer to his body until your feet hit the legs of your stool he was perched on. "It's okay. Um... Can you...keep doing that? With my hair?" Pink tinged his skin. "If you don't mind."

"I don't mind," you whispered, rubbing your fingers across his scalp. He sighed, pushing into your touch. Heat bloomed across your body.

"Sorry," he whispered. "I know this is...weird. But, um, Nancy never... Never really touched me or— Or held me or anything, so..."

"You don't have to explain yourself," you whispered. "Not to me, not to anyone. Okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, slowly relaxing in your arms.

"I've got you, Steve," you assured him. "I've got you."

~❊~

Before he'd even pulled into the parking lot, Steve was mentally apologizing to you. You'd told him time and time again when he visited you while you were working that you enjoyed your slow closing shifts. It meant there was no one to bother you while you were in the middle of a restock, making you forget where you were; it meant there was no one to complain about the music you played, so you could listen to whatever you wanted; it meant your final hour was spent just closing up shop instead of shooing customers out the door—except for Steve, who had become a regular and always stayed until you left, sometimes to give you a ride home and other times just to have a friend around.

But today, he wasn't coming alone. His car was full to bursting with young children: Dustin, Max, Lucas, Mike, and Will, all of whom he'd been tasked with picking up from their after school activities for the day. He had tried to get them to go home quickly, but his attempts to rush them out of his car had led them to discover that he was seeing a girl, which they all took the wrong way, of course.

Sort of.

Now that Steve was prowling the world alone again, he'd realized his initial estimation of you—pretty, smiley, shy with new people but confident with your friends—was right, but it was a muted reality compared to how you really were. It was like he'd been looking at you with sunglasses covering his eyes this whole time. Now that those glasses were gone, the record shop girl had become more than just his best friend.

And he was really hoping the kids were not about to point that out.

As per usual, you were playing Bob Seger when Steve pushed the door open. He'd yet to figure out if you played Bob Seger so much when he came to visit because you loved Bob Seger, or if you had (correctly) pinned Steve as a fan.

(Not that Steve had ever told anyone he was a fan; he let them think the only reason he even knew about his music was because of Carol's obsession with Risky Business.)

You weren't at your desk like Steve had expected; you were carrying a huge stack of records in your arms, shelving them as you walked along the rows, singing along to Sunspot Baby without a care in the world.

"Sunspot baby," you sang. "She sure had a real good time."

"I looked in Miami, I looked in Negril," Steve joined in. You turned with a grin, heading back to your desk. "The closest I came was a month old bill."

You noticed the kids as you put down your stack. "You brought company today, I see."

Steve gave you a look while the kids were still behind him. You stifled a giggle. "Uh, yeah, these are the kids. Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, Max Mayfield, Will Byers, and Mike Wheeler."

Dustin walked straight up to your desk. "So you're the girl Steve talks about all the time?"

"All the time, huh?" you said, smiling in a way that suggested you were sure Dustin was exaggerating.

"Every time we see him," Mike groaned. You stared at the younger Wheeler in surprise.

"Oh, really? Is that so, Steve?" you teased.

He rolled his eyes, unable to stop his blush. "Sorry to interrupt your quiet shift. They wanted to stop in and grab some records."

"No we didn't—we just wanted to meet you," Lucas said. Steve's calm expression became painfully forced.

The young redhead snorted. "Speak for yourself." She looked up at you expectantly. "Do you have any David Bowie?"

You grinned. "I like you, you have good taste. Back side of the first row."

Max grinned and dragged Lucas with her.

You looked back at Steve. "Do you have enough room in your car for one more?"

"Need a ride when you leave?"

You nodded.

"Yeah, I've got room. I'll just make the kids rearrange."

You laughed. "You don't have to do that," you insisted.

Steve leaned across the counter. "Don't worry about it—I want to. I'd feel terrible if I left you to get home on your own."

You smiled at him, noticing Dustin nudging Mike and Will and pointing in your direction out of the corner of your eye.

~❊~

Somehow, the kids' presence lightened up the rest of your shift. Time passed quickly with them there, adventuring through the store and asking you question after question about the vinyls lining the walls.

You waved off Steve as he tried to get the kids to leave you alone. "They're fine, Steve. It's okay. You wanna help me get everything packed up? I've gotta lock up soon."

"Oh, yeah, sure." Steve took the vinyl off the record player and slipped it back into its case. He glanced over his shoulder and called to the kids, "Hey, guys! We're gonna head out soon."

You ran through your closing tasks as quickly as you could, anxious to head home for the night.

"Alright, everybody out. Got everything?" you asked, ushering the kids to the door and taking out the key. You set the alarm system for the building and locked the door behind you.

Steve put a hand on your back. Warmth bloomed through you from where he touched you. "You're all ready to go?"

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.

The kids opened the doors of Steve's car, jumping in quickly. Dustin made his way to the passenger's seat. Steve stopped him, gently shoving him toward the back seat with everyone else.

"Hey—move it, Henderson, she's got the passenger's seat."

You stared at Steve. "No, no, it's okay, he can—"

Steve shook his head, holding open the door for you. "Come on, it's fine, just..." He gestured into the car. The kids whispered and giggled at him. He sent them a glare and Dustin's annoyed face shifted into a gleeful smirk.

You got in the front seat, unaware of the glances being exchanged in the back or the glare Steve was giving them.

"Seat belts!" Steve said as he got into the driver's seat. You giggled at him as the kids groaned. You caught the way his face lit up when he looked at you, and butterflies tickled your insides.

Once the kids had listened and all were buckled, Steve pulled out of the parking lot and started his way through Hawkins, dropping them off one-by-one: Will first, on the outskirts of town, his mother waiting at the door; Max, who was relieved the Camaro wasn't in the driveway; Dustin next, his new cat sitting on the front step; Lucas, who was immediately met with his snarky young sister; Mike last, Nancy already at the door—saying goodbye to Jonathan.

You glanced at Steve. "You alright?"

Steve looked at you, releasing a deep sigh. "I'm okay," he said. "I...I'm doing better now."

"Good," you said. "You deserve it."

Steve gave you a curious look before he said, "Let's get you home, right?"

"Right."

And if Steve drove slower the whole way back to yours compared to driving the kids home, you weren't going to say anything.

When he got back to your house, Steve pulled into the driveway and sighed. "Well. Home sweet home," he said.

You looked at Steve with a smile. "Thanks for the ride home." You picked up the bag you had put on the ground. You got out, then stopped yourself before you could close the door. You crouched to look at him in the car. "Hey, Steve?"

"Yeah?" Was it just your imagination, or did he sound nervous?

You took a deep breath. Now or never.

"I talk about you all the time, too."

For a moment, Steve processed your words. Then his eyes went wide. Hope bloomed on his slack-jawed face. "You..." He bit his lip, holding back a smile. "You mean that you..."

"Yes, Steve," you said, voice quiet. "Always have. Just ask my friends—they'll give away my secrets just as quickly as Dustin gave away yours." You drummed your fingers against the roof of his car. "Do with that what you will. It's up to you if...you want to even acknowledge it or not." You closed his door and started for your front door.

A door squeaked and then slammed shut moments later; running steps approached you.

"Wait!"

You turned as Steve's hand fell on your shoulder, pulling you close to him. He yanked your body close to his, his arms sliding around you, his hands gripping your shoulder blades. For a split second, you reveled in his hug, noticing the difference in it, relishing in the love in his arms instead of the misery.

Those few seconds became nothing as Steve pulled back. You gave a sound of protest, quickly squashed by Steve's lips.

Your heart had stopped beating, but was simultaneously pounding. You moved on instinct, looping your arms around his shoulders, yanking him down to you. Never once did your lips part from his as the two of you grappled to hold each other in the best way possible.

Thunder boomed overhead. You gasped, pulling apart.

"Was it supposed to storm?" you asked.

"I didn't think so," Steve said.

You kissed him again. Steve smiled into the kiss.

"You should get home before it pours," you whispered against his lips. But neither of you made any move to let go of each other.

Steve adjusted so that his head was against yours, his mouth at your temple. "See you tomorrow in class, then?"

You hummed. "Yeah. Tomorrow."

Steve pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I don't wanna leave."

You looked up at the sky, watching the already-grey skies grow darker as storm clouds rolled in. "We're going to get soaked if we stay out here, Steve."

Steve squeezed you tightly. "Tomorrow, then." He kissed your forehead again. "I'll see you tomorrow...sweetheart."

You beamed at the nickname while Steve blushed while he gave you the moniker.

"And to think," you whispered. "You'd known me all this time, but this? This happened all because you stopped in my store one day."

Steve hugged you tight to his chest. "I wish I'd noticed you before, sweetheart, really I do."

You kissed him. "Well, you've noticed me now." Light rain started, dusting Steve's hair until it sparkled. "Now go, before that pretty hair of yours gets ruined."

He grinned, brushing his hand through it. "I knew you liked my hair."

"Always have." You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "Always will."

☞ ❊ ☜

Stranger Things // Steve Harrington

part 2? lmk!

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the S.H. taglist!} @ohatropa@nix-rose@live-the-fangirl-life

[cupid-styles]

opposites attract

a quick lil halloween blurb based on my grumpy h series !!

word count: 692

content warnings: none ! a little spicy but nothing wild

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

"I feel silly."

Harry lets out a breathy chuckle as he watches Y/N analyze her Halloween costume in his floor-length mirror, reaching up to fix the devil horns embedded in her hair. He rises from the edge of his bed, taking long strides to come up from behind her and wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. 

"You look hot." he mutters into the shell of her ear. She gasps and turns around in his arms, a cackle sounding from his mouth at her shocked response.

"I do not, and this is a dumb costume idea. Why can't I be the angel?"

The idea had come to Harry a few weeks ago, right after his housemates decided they would throw a Halloween party. In between Niall's excessive alcohol purchases and Pauli's myriad of ghost and ghoul themed decor, he made a pit stop at the local Halloween pop-up store to snag angel wings and devil horns for him and his girl. 

It wasn't a totally unique idea, he knew — he was sure that there'd be tons of devils and angels attending the party tonight, but none would come anywhere close to his sweet girl. Especially because he was making her be the devil.

She was bashful when he introduced the concept, her face warming. 

"You can wear all red— that cute little plaid mini skirt you have, maybe, and I'll wear all white. It'll be cute."

"I dunno, H, I feel like you have a pretty skewed perception of me..."

"That's the point, baby. It's like opposites attract."

After that, there wasn't much room for compromise, especially because Y/N didn't have much free time to look for other couples costumes. So, reluctantly, she shows up to Harry's place with her overnight bag in tow, her red devil-themed outfit folded between her pajamas and her bag of skincare.

It's only when she puts the requested mini skirt on, tucking her red bodysuit into the waistband, her usual platform Doc Martens on her feet and the devil horn headband in her hair, that she starts to feel uncool. Especially when her boyfriend is standing behind her in a silky white button down, cream pants pulled over his legs, and fluffy angel wings strapped to his back. She doesn't understand how he can look so good in nearly anything, and she just looks so... her.

"That would ruin the whole point of the costume, dove," Harry murmurs, ducking to rub his nose against hers before pressing a kiss to her forehead. "We can swap if you'd like, I don't want you to be uncomfortable. But trust me when I say you look incredible."

She sighs as she allows him to twist her body back to the direction of the mirror. She watches as his fingertips trail up the length of her outer thigh, ducking underneath the fabric of her skirt. 

"Do you understand how lucky I am?" he mumbles, pressing light kisses to her neck, "I have this sweetheart on my hands, and she's so fuckin' gorgeous... and no one else knows what a filthy thing she is in bed."

"H..." she murmurs, her lips parting as he uses his other hand to float over the valley of her breasts, up to her chest and over her neck. He doesn't apply any pressure, instead just letting his fingers ghost over the width of her throat.

"That's really why I wanted you dressed up as my little devil tonight," he continues, kissing her hair as he gives her hip a squeeze. "I want them all to wonder... to see this beautiful body and fantasize about you... only to realize that I'm the one you go home with."

He chuckles quietly when he notices her rounded eyes, her lips swollen from biting at them. 

"Isn't that right, baby? My devil girl only goes home with me."

"Uh-huh," she nods, eyes fluttering shut when he finally applies the smallest amount of pressure to her throat, leaning her head back against his chest. 

"That's my girl," he smirks, turning her body back around to face him, a slightly stunned expression on her face. "And if you're good... this angel will let you sit on his face tonight."

"Harry!"

[demiesworld]

How They React When You Fight Pt. 2 (Tokyo Revengers)

pairings: ran, rindou, sanzu, kakucho, hanma, kokonoi x reader synopsis: a continuation of my last post contents: suggestive themes (in sanzu's), violence, fighting and swearing

RAN HAITANI

Everyone and their mother knew about Ran's girlfriend. They knew of her temper, her possessiveness over Ran, and her protective mindset when it came to her boyfriend. That's why when Ran had a woman that wasn't his girlfriend flirting with him he would immediately shut them down. Sometimes Rindou would do it for him too when given the opportunity on his behalf. Everyone knew when it came to Y/N's man don't fuck with him. Not unless you want to end up in a hospital bed.

Ran was also possessive over his girlfriend too. Maybe that's why they clicked, they both had that "You're mine and I'm yours, can't nobody fuck with us" mindset. He loved her to death.

He was at the club he and Rindou operated, seated in a booth with Kokonoi, Kakucho, and Takeomi. Rindou went off to the restroom and you were at the bar ordering more drinks for the table you were at with your boyfriend and his comrades. Apparently this was the perfect opportunity for some broad to slither into the booth and try to steal your man.

As the woman joined and smiled lustfully at Ran, Kakucho and Kokonoi shared a look. Takeomi grinned knowing what was going to come. As for Ran he just sat there not responding to the woman when she tucked her hair over her shoulder and had the audacity to put her chapped nail polished fingers on Ran's tie.

"So what do you think, handsome? Do you want to come home with me?" She coos. Not knowing that you were returning with a tray of shots in your hands.

"He won't be going anywhere with you, bitch." She jumped when she heard your venomous voice and looked at you scared. "You got five seconds to get your grimy fingers off of my man. Five,"

She retracted her hand away from Ran, who was smirking in amusement at the situation, and scooted away from him. "No, no you got it all wrong-"

You walked around the side of the table and snatched up the woman by her hair. Pulling her away from your boyfriend and dragging her out of the booth. She was screaming for help, "No don't scream now bitch, you wanna go touch on someone's man do it, but it ain't gonna be mine!" You tossed her into the crowd of dancers like she was yesterday's trash.

Ran chuckled, leaning over to grab a shot of liquor and manspread on the sofa, "That's my girl, come sit on my lap princess."

RINDOU HAITANI

Rindou knew you could fight before you two started dating, which is why when you two would have arguments he never let you or him go to bed angry. If there's one thing Rindou loves more than his older brother it's you and your relationship. He wouldn't do anything to cause trouble between the two of you.

You were spending time with your boyfriend at an arcade when his phone continuously was getting spammed with phone calls. The first few rings you didn't pay it no mind, but after the umpteenth ring you grew annoyed. You stopped playing the virtual hockey game with Rindou and turned to him. "Who is calling you?"

"I don't know! Must be one of the guys, just ignore it." He tells you, but you knew it wasn't just one of the guys. Your eyes narrowed at Rindou and you folded your arms. "Show me your phone." Rindou sighed, "Y/N…"

"Phone!" You held out your hand and he gave it to you. You unlocked it and saw an unknown number calling him again. Your eyes widened when you saw who's number it was. It was your best friend. "Why the fuck is Y/F/N calling you?"

"I don't know! She's been calling me for a week and I sent her a message saying to leave me alone!"

"That doesn't answer my question, you dumbass!" The phone rang again and this time you answered it, but held the phone up to your boyfriend's ear. "Talk to her."

"Babe- hello? Oh hey Y/F/N." Rindou shoved his hands into his pockets, his eyes averting your glare. When your friend asked where he was you told him to say he was at the arcade and he was alone. "Tell her to meet you up here." You said and he repeated it to her. Your friend, stupidly agreed to meet him up there and you two went outside waiting for her.

You sat on a bench with a newspaper in front of you covering your face and Rindou stood in front of the entrance of the arcade with his hands in his pockets. Just then your friend showed up beaming at your boyfriend and waving at him. "Hey there Rinnie! I see Y/N is not here with you today. What happened?"

"Oh, um she's just not feeling good right now." He swallowed feeling guilty that he was setting her up for her demise. Before your friend could answer you shot up from your seat and tossed the newspaper away. "Trying to talk to my man behind my back huh? Really Y/F/N?"

She jolted, taking a step back and smiled sheepishly. "Y-Y/N, I didn't know you were here!" You stomped closer to her and yelled, "Yeah because you were too busy trying to get," your hand went over your head and slapped her across her face. "dick from my boyfriend!" The impact of the slap sent her on the ground, holding her cheek and scattering to get away from you. "The fuck are you looking at slut?! Go!" Your now ex-friend scrambled to her feet and ran away from you and Rindou still holding her cheek.

You turn your attention to your boyfriend, "And you, if something like this happens again and you don't tell me, your ass is going to be just like her dickless."

Rindou nodded his head stiffly, he knew you weren't playing either this time.

SANZU HARUCHIYO

"Oh Y/N… my pretty angel, the most beautiful girl in the world, my cherry pie, the apple of my-"

"Who is it that I have to fight now, Sanzu?" You deadpanned.

Your lover rested his chin in his hands as he looked at you from across the table. You were preoccupied with arranging a dinner for the weekend for you and him before he interrupted. Sanzu slid his phone across the table, a picture of a woman with short blue hair. His finger tapped on her face, "Her. She's a nuisance to me, and she shows up at the bar whenever I'm with the guys desperately trying to get my number." He pouts like a child, then starts to smile wickedly, "I need for you to teach her a lesson for me please."

"If I teach her a lesson what sort of reward will I be getting?"

Sanzu leans across the table and sweetly kisses your lips. "You'll get to do that thing you always wanted to do to me." Your face heats up for a moment and you nod your head agreeing to his terms.

That's how you find yourself in the parking lot of the local bar fighting with the woman. Sanzu stood by watching as you had her against a car and were kicking her in her stomach. He licked his lips at the sight of blood trickling from the woman's head when you had hit her with a steel pipe earlier. The sounds of her pathetic groans for you to stop were arousing to him.

"Don't. You. Ever. Look. At. Him. Again." you say as you finish your final kick with your steel-toed boot colliding with her face. She slumped forward coughing out blood and weakly told you she won't look at him again. Satisfied with your results of the fight you walked away from her and locked your arms with Sanzu.

"Oh, princess that was so hot of you to do that for me." Sanzu croons, as he opens the door for you to enter the car. You thank him and watches as he shuts your passenger door and goes to enter on the driver's side. "The pleasure is all mine, princess, and speaking of pleasure," your cheeks are squished in between his fingers as he leans over the center console to kiss your lips.

Sanzu nibbles at your bottom lip with his teeth, tugging at the flesh as he pulls away. "I hope that what you do to me tonight really pleases me."

SHUJI HANMA

"You know when you said we were going out to have fun," you start just before a girl lunges for you and you punch her in the stomach. She groans in pain from the impact, giving you the chance to elbow her on the top of her head knocking her down. "I didn't think fighting a group of coeds would be it."

Hanma slugs a guy in the face just as he charges towards him. A manic laugh leaving from his mouth when his fist collided with the man's cheek. He felt the bones of his opponent's face crack upon the blow. "Aha! Then what did you think we're going to do baby?"

You shrug your shoulders, and reply back, "I don't know maybe terrorize the convenience store owner again." You duck when a girl swings a bat at your head, narrowly missing it. You dodge her swings and block another attempted hit with your arm. It hurt like hell, but you fought through the pain and kicked the girl in her groin. She loosens her grip on the bat and you snatch it from her hands, bashing the end of it at her skull. From the corner of your eye you saw a guy heading towards Hanma. "At your 6 babe!"

Hanma laughs boisterously, he blocks the man's jab and snatches him by his nose. "Come on baby! I thought you knew me better than that!" The crazed smile of his never once falters from his face as he lifts the guy by his nose and throws him on the ground. "Surely this is more thrilling!" He stands above the man, stomping at his head with his heavy feet. The sounds of bones cracking encourage Hanma to further disfigure the man underneath him.

You look around at the several bodies scattered in the alleyway, unmoving bodies of both male and female on the ground. Hanma stops stomping the man's head in once he sees his teeth caving in. You walk towards your boyfriend holding the arm that had blocked the hit earlier. "I think they're all done for Shuji. Let's go."

Hanma smiles at you and tosses his arm over your shoulders leading you out of the alleyway. "You got hurt baby," you scoff and turn your head away from his gaze. "It's nothing that a little ice won't fix." You say to him, and smirk, "Besides I had some fun back there."

His eyes brightened as you two made it to his bike and hopped on the ride, "Great~ Would you do it again for me, baby?"

"Absolutely not."

Cue Hanma pouting.

KOKONOI HAJIME

For him it was never easy dealing with your feisty attitude and short temper. He didn't know how to control you, and frankly didn't want to even do it. He was afraid he'd wind up at the end of a closed fist to his face if he were to defy or deny you of anything. If you told him to jump he would ask you how high. That's how committed he was to not pissing you off.

He felt pity for those who fought with you because they would end up seriously hurt. He remembered the one time a girl was picking on him at a party. She was calling him lizard man because of his habit of sticking out his tongue. What really ticked him off was when she went up to him, flicked his nose, and called him a pussy. She was a bold woman. He will give her credit for that.

If only she knew just who she was fucking with. The words that the girl said to him went through the grapevine to you at the party. "Where is she?" you said as you push through people to reach your boyfriend. Koko stood there looking scared, meanwhile Ran answered the question for you. He pointed his finger at the entrance of the club, "She just went outside for a smoke."

"Y/N wait!" Koko called out but it was too late. You were already running out of the club to go and get the girl. "Shit, Ran why did you tell her where she was!" Koko shouted to the purple-haired man, Ran shrugged his shoulders. "I wanna see a cat fight." Koko scoffs at him and leaves to go stop you from fighting with the girl. The last thing he needed was you in jail tonight.

Meanwhile you were outside searching for the girl. As you rounded the corner you saw the girl smoking a cigarette underneath a lamp pole. "Hey, bitch!" You shout, and slide your heel off of your feet. "You got some nerve to be talking about my boyfriend with those grandma titties you got!"

She gasped and flicked her cigarette away, "Excuse me," You grinned at her and held your shoe tighter in your hand. "You heard me!" She went to say something else, but you had enough of the talking. Using the heel in your right hand you whacked her with the steel tip end of the heel, successfully smashing her temple with it. You whacked her with it again on the other side of her head. "I'm not done with you bitch," You pulled her by her hair and started punching her on the top of her head. Little whimpers came from the woman and she tried to defend herself by hitting you in your stomach. "You crazy fucking slut!" She shouts.

Koko showed up outside with Ran, Kakucho, Rindou and Sanzu behind him. He saw you about to pull your killer move on the woman and immediately he charged to stop you. "No!" he cried as he tackled you to the ground; you both grunt at the impact. "Y/N are you crazy?! What the hell is wrong with you?!"

You thrashed in his hold, "Get off of me Koko!" you sneered.

"Hell no, I just paid for your nails and I'd be damned if you're gonna fuck them up by fighting some whore!"

And that is why Koko tells people who talk ill about him, "My girlfriend isn't afraid to do jail time over you."

HITTO KAKUCHO

If there was one word to describe Kakucho, it would be his undying loyalty for those he grew to love. He was loyal to Izana, his closest friend until his untimely passing, and he was just as loyal to you, his girlfriend. Never did Kakucho complain about you to anyone or talked about you in vain behind your back. He respected you just as much as you respected him.

Though he never would have guessed how protective you were over him until the incident at the park happened. It was on a late, cool night when he was at home polishing the magazine of his gun and he heard rapid heavy knocks on his door. He stopped what he was doing and went to answer it. As soon as he pulled the door open he saw the sight of one of your friends. “Y/F/N? What are you doing here this late?” He asked, and she shook her head. “I can’t explain to you, but you gotta come with me Y/N is in danger!”

The second your name was mentioned, Kakucho quickly snatched his house keys and locked his door before following your friend. She led him to a park that was just a few blocks out of his home and there he saw you fighting two men. Scattered on the ground were incapacitated men, and Kakucho believed you must have been the cause of that. “Y/N,” he whispered, as he stopped in his tracks and stood there in a trance.

You fought so elegantly, yet with a vengeance in your hits. You were dodging hits, blocking punches with your arms, and serving strong kicks to the opponents abdomen. When one of them picked up a bat to swing it at your head, that’s when Kakucho snapped out of his trance and started to run towards the man. “Y/N!” he cries. Everything seems to move in slow motion for him. Kakucho intercepted the melee attack with his hands grasping the bat and halting it from striking you.

You gasp, “Kakucho!” the guy in front of you tried punching you but you blocked it and swung your left fist up to his chin. The man’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he stumbled on his feet. “Bastard!” You stood there as he fell backwards, he was out. Your attention went to your boyfriend, looking at him worriedly as he used his strength to push the man away from you. His jaw clenched, arms straining to stop the attacker from hurting you or him. “I won’t let you touch her, you piece of shit.”

Just then you appeared from behind the man, pulling him into a chokehold. He loosened his grip on the bat and Kakucho took it away from him, tossing it away from his grasp. The man gasped for air, his eyes bulging from his head as you held him there. “Y/N,” Kakucho began, your cold eyes met his heterochromatic ones, “What are you doing here? Why are you doing this?”

“These guys were talking crap about you Kakucho. They mentioned Izana’s death, they said they were glad he died because he was nothing but a pathetic leader.” Kakucho’s breath hitched as he looked down at the faces of the men surrounding him. He recognized them as former Tenjiku members. He swallowed, as distraught as he was right now he couldn’t let you do this. “You don’t have to do this Y/N, this isn’t what I want you to do.”

You look at the man still struggling to break free from your deathly hold. Your eyes were unreadable and void of emotion. Kakucho couldn’t guess what you were going to do next. “Let him go, please.” You shook your head at your boyfriend. “Please Y/N.” Suddenly he fell to his knees and you sucked in a sharp breath. “Release him.”

With your body trembling you let the man go and he collapsed to his knees before Kakucho. He hunched over gasping for air to enter his lungs. Your boyfriend stood to his full height, his eyes glaring down at the man at his feet. “You will thank me for telling her to stop.” He then looked up at you, “I understand what you were trying to do, but that doesn’t mean you have to kill these traitors.” You took a step forward, stepping over the hunched form of the man, and wrap your arms around your boyfriend’s body.

Kakucho’s strong arms held you close to him, his warm hands caressing your back up and down in gentle strokes. His lips ghosted over your ear, “I love you Y/N.”

That’s how he found out that you were the one for him. His undying loyalty for you and your never-ending love for him.

a/n: ugh i might have did word vomit with kakucho’s! but i hope you enjoy!

[haleyhunwritess]

I was wondering if you could write someting where bucky and reader have an argument and she gets drunk later because shes upset but then he takes care of her 💜

𝐓𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤

pairing: bucky x reader

warning: angsty, swear words, lots of fluff at the end

a/n: okay i made this super long for literally no reason, but i got a similar request before (i can't find it anymore) and i got this idea for the request from a movie i watched last night (yes i wrote this at like 3am, which is probably why this is really bad), i hope you guys still like it though <3 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

"Come on, Buck, are you seriously not gonna tell me anything?" Steve asked once again, hoping Bucky would tell him more about your relationship. Most people already knew about the two of you, even though you hadn’t really made things official yet.

"There's nothing to tell. I already told you." Bucky groaned, hoping Steve would leave him alone.

"Oh please you guys are always together, and you've spent every night in her room for the past two weeks. You're seriously telling me there's nothing going on?" Steve smiled, thinking back to when he caught Bucky sneaking out of your room earlier this morning.

"It's nothing, okay? It's just a casual thing, that's it." Bucky lied, just to get Steve to shut up. Truth was, to him this was no casual thing. You were it for him. But he didn’t know if you wanted that. And he also knew it would be difficult telling your father about the two of you, and Bucky didn’t want him to accidentally hear about it from Steve.

“Buck-”

“Steve, like I said, it’s a casual thing and it means nothing, okay?” Bucky interrupted him, thinking he was still trying to pry. However, when Steve gestured to the person behind him, he realized the poor guy was just trying to warn him that you were right behind him, and judging from the look on your face, you definitely heard what Bucky said.

Before he could even say anything though, you turned around and started walking back to your room. Bucky quickly followed behind you but you just ignored him. Once you got to your room, he followed you inside, and you didn’t stop him. Instead, you started picking up all of the things he left in your room. He tried to apologize as you collected all his things and just ignored him.

"Baby stop, I didn't meant that, I'm sorry. Please just let me explain,” Bucky moved his hands to cup your face and try to get you to look at him, but you just pulled away from him.

"I don't wanna hear it." You muttered, picking up his book from the bedside table.

"Please just let me explain, doll." Bucky sighed, taking the book from you and putting it back down.

"Take your stuff with you and get the fuck out. I don't wanna see you," You said, shoving the book back in his arms.

Even though you never made things official, you clearly had strong feelings for each other. It hurt when he said it was just a casual thing, but it hurt even more when he said it didn’t mean anything. Is that how he really felt? You didn’t mean anything to him? Maybe he didn't even have feelings for you like you thought he did.

Fuck this, you needed a drink. The girls were going out tonight, and you were supposed to go but then you made plans with Bucky. Looking down at your clock, you wondered if you could still make it to go out with them. You probably could if you started getting ready right now. But in order to do that, you needed Bucky to leave.

"Please just listen to me, I'm not going anywhere until you listen to me." Bucky tried again as he watched you walk over to your closet. He was about to explain his side of the story until he noticed you were starting to strip your clothes off, "Uhh doll, what are you doing?"

"I'm going out with the girls, and I have to get ready but you won't leave," You rolled your eyes as you slipped on a random skirt before looking through your closet for a top.

"I thought we had plans tonight…" Bucky frowned, folding his arms as he watched you get dressed.

If there is one thing this man had, it was the fucking audacity. You took a deep breath before picking up another one of his books and throwing it at him, "Bucky if you don’t leave right now, I swear to god,”

"Ow! Okay okay I'm leaving," Bucky dodged the next book you threw at him, and decided it was best to leave you alone for now. Once he got to your door though, he stood there quietly for a second before attempting to apologize again, only to have the door slammed in his face.

..

"You sure it's a good idea to spy on her after what you did?" Sam smirked, looking back at the nearby booth where you, Nat, and Wanda were sitting. Sam was a little skeptical at first when Bucky practically begged him and Steve to go clubbing tonight. Although, it was clear now that he only came here for you.

"I'm not spying on her, I didn't even know she was here." Bucky rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his drink.

"Right, so it's just a coincidence that she's here too, huh?" Steve smirked, as he watched Bucky stare at you intently.

Back at your booth, Wanda laughed at something Nat said, but then she noticed how you were still pretty quiet, just like you had been since you got there. Before she could said anything though, she heard Sam’s booming laughter coming one of the nearby booths. She turned to check if it was really him, "Is that- Fuck, okay don't look but Bucky is here."

You nearly spit your drink out at Wanda’s words, and resisted the urge to turn around, "Are you serious? Is he alone?"

"No, Steve and Sam are also here but umm…" Wanda watched nervously as some drunk girl nearly fell over on Bucky. She then moved closer to him, and started playing with his hair before laughing at something he said, "There's a girl sitting next to him, and I'm pretty sure she's flirting with him."

"I love your hair!" The strange girl nearly screamed drunkenly as she continued playing with Bucky's hair. He rolled his eyes and tried to push her away but she wouldn’t budge. She then grabbed his left arm, and moved it close to her face, staring at the shiny vibranium hand.

"Thanks but would you mind not doing that, please?" Bucky pulled his hand away, and tried to move further away from her once again, as both Steve and Sam tried to contain their laughter while watching this whole exchange. Sam looked over at your table when Bucky and Steve started talking but he quickly looked away when you glared back at him.

"Umm Bucky don't look but they definitely saw us, and I don't think your girl is very happy with you right now," Sam said, referring to the angry expression on your face as you watched the girl continue to flirt with Bucky.

"What is she doing? Is she still with the girls?" Bucky asked, trying his best not to turn around to look at you.

This time Steve turned around, watching you and Wanda talk for a minute until Natasha came back to the table with a tray of shots, “She's taking shots with the girls, I think it's tequila?"

"Fuck she can't handle more than five shots, especially tequila. She's a lightweight, last time she passed out after like four." Bucky groaned, thinking back to the last time you drank tequila, "How many do you think she's had so far?"

"I think she's about to have her fifth one." Steve gulped, as he watched you take down your fifth shot.

"Fuck, I'm gonna go check on her." Bucky got up from the table but Sam quickly stopped him, making him sit back down.

"No don't do that! You're just gonna upset her even more.” Steve said, hoping Bucky will actually listen to him. Of course he didn’t though.

He got up and started walking to your table through the crowd, only to get there and realize it was empty. He turned around and saw you stumbling drunkenly through the crowd towards his booth.

"You piece of shit, you couldn't even wait one fucking day!" You yelled as you approached his table, both Wanda and Nat following behind you. They were too drunk to stop you from going over to Bucky’s booth to yell at him. You watched the drunk girl from before lean closer to kiss him, and you immediately pushed her off of him, only to realize it wasn’t even Bucky she was trying to kiss "Steve?! Wha- Where the fuck is Bucky?”

Steve almost laughed before pointing at Bucky who was standing behind you. You didn’t get much chance to say anything to him though, as your head started spinning even more. Then before you knew it, you practically collapsed in his arms and passed out.

..

You woke up to the excruciatingly loud sound of Bucky’s alarm. Reaching over to turn it off, you quickly realized you were in Bucky's room. Though you couldn’t remember how you got there or why you were wearing his clothes.

Before you could sneak back to your room though, Bucky walked in with a tray in one hand and a coffee in another, and quietly put it down on the dresser. Picking up a bottle of water from the tray, he walked over to the bed and put it on the bedside table. He was about to leave again until he noticed you were awake.

"Oh good, you're finally up.” He handed you the bottle of water, as well as some painkillers, “Here's some ibuprofen, it'll help with your headache. Oh and I made some breakfast and got you coffee."

"Look I'm not in the mood for-" You protested as he brought the tray of food over to the bed, but he quickly shushed you before you could continue.

"Just listen. I made your favourite, pancakes with strawberries on top. I also got you some cereal, if you something lighter. Oh and of course, a vanilla latte with oat milk instead of regular, and an extra shot of espresso." He gestured to the coffee, smiling softly at you.

Bucky watched you for a minute, and sighed when you remained still. Taking the bottle of water from you, he put it back down on tray. He then took your hands in his, kissing them gently before looking up at you, "I know you’re angry. I know you wanna yell at me, but first I need you to eat some breakfast for me. It'll help you feel better, and you'll have more energy so that you can argue with me properly. I promise once you finish eating I'll sit here quietly and you can yell at me for as long as you want."

You nearly chuckled as he said that, and he laughed as well before saying, “I’m serious, I can even teach you some swear words in Russian so you can yell at me some more.”

"I hate you." You groaned, moving closer to hug him.

"I know, baby, I know. I'm sorry." Bucky sighed, hugging you back tightly, like he never wanted to let go, “I never should've said that, I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Why did you say it?" You mumbled, with your arms still wrapped around him.

"Honestly, I wasn’t sure if you even wanted a proper relationship with me. Plus you haven't told your dad about us yet, and I didn't want him finding out from Steve.”

"He knows already." You confessed, pulling away from Bucky. He looked back at you, confused, and you explained, "Well actually I was on my way to tell you he figured it out because of the security tape but then I heard you talking to Steve…"

Bucky sighed, feeling guilty about the way he made you feel, "Baby, I'm so sorry. I promise I didn't mean what I said, in fact I was dying to tell him everything." Bucky pulled you back in for a hug, and you melted into his touch. You stayed like that for a bit till Bucky broke the silence, "So, he knows, huh?"

You laughed at how nervous he sounded, "Oh yeah, but then I called him from the club last night, and told him what happened…"

"Oh god, he's gonna kill me, isn't he?" Bucky groaned thinking about what Stark was gonna do to him when he found out you were back together. And this time in an official relationship.

"Yeah, he might.” You nodded, laughing at the look on his face, making him glare back at you in response. Getting up from the bed, you leaned down to kiss his neck, “Anyways, I'm gonna go shower before breakfast, feel free to join me."

You quickly rushed off to the shower, and Bucky was about to follow you until he heard your phone ringing. "Baby your phone is-” He smirked when he realized it was Tony calling, “Your dad’s calling you, baby, Hello?"

"Hi Baby, you're not in your room, where are you? Are you okay?" Tony asked assuming it was you on the phone but then he realized it wasn't you who picked up, “Bucky, is that you?”

"Yes, sir. Sorry your daughter is in the shower, did you wanna leave a message?" Bucky smirked, knowing he was just pissing him off even more.

"Why the fuc- What is she- I-" Tony couldn’t even complete one sentence with how angry he was getting but Bucky just laughed at his reaction, "You know what, I do wanna leave a message but it's for you, go fuck yourself."

"Aw love you too, have a great day." Bucky laughed, hanging up on him before walking over to the bathroom to join you in the shower.

taglist/moots: @starobi @chrisevansdaughter @cherryflavoredchapsticck @livvinitt @marvel1984 @babyhoneyriv @babyhatesreality @timidpumpkin @matchat3a @pono-pura-vida @sonalokibarnes @alex-ackerman-11 @ailathealternate @buckysugar

[valorantmenheadcanons]

Innocent and shy masc reader has an incredibly dirty search history and an even worse taste in porn, has a large collection of order receipts from bad dragon. Cypher goes snooping and finds this all out? They have a little "chat" about network security -🐩

this is like my biggest fear except with my parents accidentally opening one of my packages. its either shampoo or a toy gnmsfgns

cw: suggestive, mentions of Corn, technically kind of cyberstalking? it's cypher what do u expect

wc: 718

It's late when you hear a soft knock at your door. You put your phone down on the bed, wondering who's on the other side of the door, especially at this hour. You hope it isn't a call for a last minute mission- the last thing you want right now is to be in a plane in a matter of minutes, geared up to fight.

When you open the door, you're greeted to the sight of a familiar beige figure, standing just a little too close. Cypher never seemed to mind getting in other people's space as long as he was the one doing it; invade his and he'd scamper off in seconds. His blue mechanical eyes scan over you quickly, though in a way that reminds you of someone checking for weapons rather than looking appreciatively.

"I need to talk to you about something," the man chirps, inviting himself inside your room before you can say anything. He slides by you with a careful hand on your shoulder, the leathery material of his gloves cool against your skin. You flush a little at the contact, fleeting but strangely electrifying. You shut your door behind him, folding your arms over your chest as you turn around to face him. You assume he's going to ask for a favour of some kind, or he wants to steal a piece of machinery from you, again, but you're really not in the mood to humour his requests, tired, and a little cranky because of it. Cypher pauses for a moment, hand half-raised in the air like he's trying to figure out exactly what he wants to say. "You know that I am very technology proficient, yes?"

You nod, frowning at the opening. He's usually pretty straightforward when he's asking for something.

"Come on, everyone knows to delete it afterwards. Are you trying to tease me?" Cypher's voice is smooth, peppy and cheerful but calculated, any hint of hesitancy gone. He's talking to you the same way he chides his opponents in a fight he's already won. The realisation sends a shiver up your spine- he knows something that either you don't know or don't want him to know. But you have an inkling, a gut feeling, that it's something you didn't want him to know. Not yet, anyways.

"What are you talking about?" You try, a little too quick to appear genuinely confused. Cypher's head only tilts minutely.

"You're too smart to be playing dumb. I mean, really?" Cypher scoffs, taking a few steps forwards, forcing you to take one back to maintain a semblance of distance between you two. "Looking up Moroccan models?" Another step forward, and your back brushes against the wall next to the door. "Picturing me as any one of them, hm?" Another step, and there's barely any space between you, and you want to die.

You hadn't intended for him to see any of that- although that meant he was snooping around your private search history, a whole other issue to tackle- but you also hadn't not intended for him to see any of that. It was a blurred line, your attraction to Cypher.

"'dirty talk in arabic'?" He has the decency to stifle a laugh, which only makes your face flush deeper, embarrassment, shame, and something else washing over you. "Mm, not to mention your purchasing history. Dirty, dirty, dirty boy," he clicks his tongue. "I thought you were all sweet, not so perverted."

You finally find your voice, the tips of your ears burning at this point. "I'm not the one snooping around in other people's stuff!" You tout back, a weak deflection.

"I'm not the one imagining their coworker is fucking them."

"Shut up!" You groan, really wishing with all your heart that you could be anywhere but here.

Cypher's beady blue eyes lift with a mirth you can sense through his mask. "Ohhh... but you like it. You're so red," and this time he does chuckle, mean and condescending, and damn if it doesn't send a little jolt of warmth through you, the idea that that little laugh is just for you to hear. "How about this: You show me which videos you like, and I'll give you a... personal lesson in how to delete your search history. How does that sound?"

[the-modern-typewriter]

hey~ first off i love ur writing, it’s so gorgeous.

second, may i request something similar//continuation of the king x rogue series from like 3 years ago?? rly old so i understand if u don’t wanna bring it back but one of my favs of yours <3

(This one, I think -though this isn't a continuation)

"My lord."

The king jumped out of his skin (in a very kingly manner, of course) and whirled in his seat.

His rogue smirked at him from - he wasn't even near the window, he was lounging against one of the walls as if he'd been there the whole time. He hadn't.

"You're like a cat," the king said. "A ninja cat."

"A very royal assessment, my lord."

The king scowled at him.

The rogue's smirk grew. He pushed himself off his languid incline, shadowed by the encroaching evening, and closer to the pool of golden light which bathed the king's private desk. The king always privately thought that his rogue looked better in gold than he did.

Up close, however, there was something unreadable in the rogue's eyes. The king had seen it before, many a time, but he'd never quite managed to decipher it.

The king's scowl thus deepened. "You only call me 'my lord' when you're mocking me."

"I would never mock you, my lord."

"Or when you're about to tell me something that you know I won't like."

The rogue's smirk transformed into that something else - softer, but just as indecipherable. "Are you ready for your grand festivities tonight?"

"It's a ridiculous tradition."

"Most traditions are."

"Thank the fates that I'll have you by my side."

The rogue hesitated.

The king twisted properly in his chair, rising from his desk and his stolen moment for never-ending duties. His eyes narrowed. "Thank the fates," he said again, "that I'll have you by my side."

His rogue was always at his side, at his heels; his deadly, playful, dependable shadow. It had been that way since they were teenagers.

"My lord-"

"Do not." The king resisted the urge to fold his arms across is chest, because they were not boys anymore, and perhaps it was absurd to feel hurt. Betrayed, even. Yet... He swallowed and tried to keep his voice light. "You don't want to see who I pick to marry? You're going to have to put up with her forever."

His rogue, unusually enough, didn't say anything.

"At the very least," the king continued, "there'll be wine and dancing and games. All things, I recall, which are very much to your liking." It was more to his rogue's liking than his, certainly. He'd grown up the diplomat, but the only time he ever really had fun at such affairs was when his rogue was at his side, talking him into something that was probably a very bad idea.

"My lord." His rogue's voice was as warm and catching as a fire spark. "I can say with the utmost certainty that I have no desire to see who you pick or propose to tonight."

It was his kingdom's tradition that a new king, on the anniversary of his coronation, must throw a ball and invite all the eligible young women of the kingdom. He must then, over the course of three nights, choose one of them to marry. Of course, most of the time, the who was practically decided well before then informally. But it was still tradition.

He'd never considered that his rogue wouldn't be at his side for it.

"Oh," he managed. He was unsure how to reconcile the words with the tone. He cleared his throat. "I see."

"I don't think you do."

Their eyes met. The puzzle pieces flew together as his rogue took a step closer still, taking his hand with a boldness that would have shocked anyone outside of the room.

"I can't," the rogue said again, with no trace of that perfect, infuriating smirk.

The king didn't pull his hand away. The rogue's was rough against his own, scarred from fights and wounds that were meant for him instead. Still, he didn't know what to say.

I would choose you, if I could wouldn't fix the problem. Oh wasn't anywhere near enough, and I'm sorry felt like an insult to the both of them. It didn't change the obligations he had to his kingdom.

He could have prepared a thousand speeches for the moment, but his mouth still would have been too dry to come out with a single useless word to encompass everything. He pulled the rogue's hand up to his lips, instead, pressing a kiss to his rogue's knuckles in the same way a courtier might swear fealty to their sovereign.

The rogue closed his eyes. His shoulders sagged.

People would enter the room soon enough, they would whisk the king away to get ready for this grand and important night, and his rogue...

"You're leaving," the king said, finally. "I understand."

"What?" The rogue's eyes snapped open. "No."

Dizzying relief flooded the king and it must have shown on his face.

The rogue made a performance of rolling his eyes. "You'd be dead in a week without me." He dropped the king's hand, gave a smirk that didn't quite match up to the sharp shine of his usual, and stepped back. "I'll just be spending the next three nights getting merrily sloshed. You'll be well looked after. I've made the necessary arrangements."

"I'll send over a flagon of wine."

"Don't."

Yeah, that did feel like a pitiful consolation. Crueller than the king had intended it to be. He floundered. His hand felt far too empty. He folded his arms then, before he could stop himself.

"You don't have to stay by my side," he said, instead. The best and most terrible offer he could make.

His rogue opened his mouth, then closed it. He studied the king with uncharacteristic seriousness, before his face shifted to its usual carelessness. "Keep this up," the rogue purred, "and I'll think you're trying to get rid of me. See you in three days."

"Goodbye."

He watched his rogue go, heart aching, because what else was there to do that was fair or kind to the man he loved but could not have? Except to say goodbye.

He wished he could avoid watching himself get married to someone else too. He turned back to his desk, any vague excitement he'd managed to muster for the ball evaporated. He rubbed a tired hand over his eyes, when no one was there to see it.

He was, thus, surprised when the rogue appeared behind him again, pulling him around. Warm hands cupped his jaw with surety, and then the rogue's lips were pressed against the king's. Sweet and claiming and - if the king's heart had not been willingly given long ago - enough to steal anyone's love.

He'd imagined what it might be like to kiss his rogue so many times. He'd always feared that if he let himself try, he'd never be able to stop.

They broke apart, breathless; the king a little dazed.

"Tell your people," the rogue said, pulling him towards the bed. "That you're going to be fashionably late to that party."

[morgansunflower]

Our Home & Our Hearts

Bruce Wayne X Wife! Reader

Warnings:suggestive content, explicit language, blood, injuries and angst

Words:1430

Arthur's notes! Third P. O. V. Grayson and Jason are 2 years apart. Dick is 14 Jason is 12.

Dick is deeply concerned for his friend who is left without a, home. Which leads to Grayson being there when Joker tries to kill Jason.

Dick plops his school backpack on the counter. Instead of a smile that the weekend was here, he let out a troubled sigh. He hadn't seen Jason in 2 weeks. He hated he was living on the streets and he was stubborn to let, him help him.

"is everything alright Master Richard?" Alfred asked

The kind butler had certainly took notice that the young man has been uncharacteristically quiet since he picked him up from school.

"I'm totally whelmed" Grayson said forcing a smile

Patrol was... stressful. Keeping secrets made him extra tense which brought in much unintended distance between him and his, parents. He hated not telling them about Jason. He knew his parents were not going to let the kid stay on his own. Which would ultimately lead to them adopting Jason. Was he ok with that? Would he be a good big brother?

As the family returned from patrol Dick planned to tell them goodnight quickly. He was going to sneak out to find Jason again... Maybe bring him some snacks and some games..

"ok good nigh--" Y/N put her hand up

"hold on there a minute young man we need to talk" she ordered with a kind tone.

The blue eyed teenager panicked "I'm not hiding anything! I didn't do anything! It's not my fault! I have been good! I've behaved!"

"Grayson calm down son" Bruce said with a small smile. He was humored by his son's quick needless defense and insistence, he had done no wrong

"you're not in trouble kiddo. We just wanted to say if there is something you're going through.. We're here for you" she smiled softly to her boy.

Dick tried to keep his heart from falling to his gut. Secrets always made him feel sick and anxious. He promised but... But Jason deserved a family.

"my friend Jay" he informed. To which his mother nodded. He sighed "Jason's mom overdosed and his dad is in jail. I have been trying to find him for 2 weeks now.." Grayson blurted out.

Y/N felt sick to her gut as she feels the need to rush to Jason and make sure he's OK ".. 2 weeks"

.....

Jason had his arms folded annoyed he had been caught by the Bat. He almost had the tire. He could've traded it for a bike or some food. As he parks Jason jumps out with Bruce. Dick rushed to his friend stunned he was really here. Jason stared quite confused why Robin was concerned for him.

"you're OK! How you doing kid? I was so worried about you-- I mean I saw, you roaming the streets all alone" Grayson wanted to hit himself for giving himself away.

"I'm fine" he rolled his eyes "seriously" Jason scoffed connecting that Dick is Robin and Batman.. Is Bruce Wayne which also meant Y/N was H/N.

Y/N stepped in, wearing her H/N uniform, seeing Batman with Robin and Jason. She sighed relieved. He's OK without a scratch.

"hi Mrs Wayne" Jason greeted with a, smirk that, he figured it out...

"hi Jay.. You told him?" she casually asked her husband

"no your son did" Bruce said

"it's not my fault he figured it out it's not like I said my name to him" Dick defended

"you kinda gave yourself away with the needless concern for me" Jason scoffed "plus I'd recognize that tiny little voice from anywhere"

"my voice didn't crack that time!!" Dick said offended.

That night for the first time in such a very long time.. Jason had a bath, ate a good dinner and had fresh change of clothes. The boy's played video games together for hours. Y/N and Bruce look in the room seeing them both asleep.

"he needs to be cared for Bruce. We can't just leave send him to a orphanage" she said holding his hand. "how, do you feel?.."

"our home and our hearts are big enough for more" he said with a soft smile kissing her head.

.....

2 years later a tragedy struck that could have ended a tremendously amount worse.

Grayson hears a slight sound from a heart monitor. He'd heard one so many times throughout his life, he recognized the sound of it instantly, like he could recognize the sound of Bruce's grunt with his eyes closed. He feels the bandages covering his burned and bloody skin.

Bruce had been sick with fear. He knew he would wake up but to see his eyes open. He was overwhelmed with relief.

Dick's relaxed face becomes clenched as he then feels pain. The cracked rib from the crowbar. The headache from the excessive blows. His legs are in so much agony from being battered and the explosion. What made his, gut twist and his heart break was that Jason was in pain just as he is.

Dick relaxes his face "hmm" why was it so hard to talk "Jay o-OK?" Dick asked

"your brother is recovering in his room. Your mom is with him. Are you thirsty?" Bruce asked him

Dick nodded Bruce takes a cup that had a, straw and puts it to Grayson's mouth. The older teenager drank the water. As he finished he rested his head back.

Grayson tightly closes his eyes from emotion rather than physical pain.. He had his fair share of brushes of death but this.. This was different. He really thought that he wasn't going to make it and to have Jason with him. Looking at him like he needed protection. He felt responsible for Jay almost getting killed. Had he been stronger. Had he been faster. Bruce must've wished Dick had been better Robin.. A better big brother.. A better son. His lips tremble.

Bruce's heart breaks for his son. He gently rubbed his temple surprising Dick.

"it's natural for you to feel shame for what happened son, but don't for a second think I'm ashamed of you"

Dick was not the only one crying. Jason was being held by his, mother as she cried with him. She tried to be careful with his bandaged wounds and the electrodes from the heart monitor, as she gently rubs his forehead.

"I c-could've g-gotten him killed" Jason stuttered shutting his eyes tightly as his guilt ate at him

"baby, baby don't you dare blame yourself. We all make, mistakes but Dick is OK and so are you. He doesn't blame you. He loves you"

Bruce and Y/N had now swapped places with their sons. Bruce was, laying on the bed with Jason resting on his chest asleep. Superman had head of his godsons current state and promised to look after Gotham until they recover.

As much as it was destroying his heart his boys were hurt it was nice to spending so much time with them. Though it also brought guilt that he had not spent more time with them, the times when everything was, ok.

Y/N laid beside Grayson, has he rested his head on her shoulder she was holding onto him. Just like his was, a little boy again. Right now he felt like he was so small. She held her son comforting him in a mothering love.

That morning Bruce and Jason sit together eating breakfast. The door opens gently to reveal two faces Jason genuinely missed.

"care if we join you for breakfast?" Y/N said as, she pushes the handles of Dick's wheelchair.

"D-Dick!" Jason cried sounding more excited to see his big brother than he wanted to.

"hey Jay!" he takes a shallow breath feeling sick how little of Jason's skin was without a, bandage "how you doin' kiddo?"

"I..." Jason felt his guilt hit harder to his gut seeing Dick in so much pain "you look pretty beat up"

"you don't look too bad yourself little bird" Grayson laughs

Grayson touched Jason's arm holding it Jay did the, same to his big brothers arm. Jason cursed his tears unable to hold them back.

"I should've listen to you" he slurred still pained to speak and was quite emotional to.

Dick go's back to that moment of him telling Jason not to pursuit Joker and then Grayson went after him. Which resulted in Joker taking them both.

"yeah, but it's OK. I'm not mad at you for thinking you were strong enough and I am so sorry it happened like this"

"me too"

Every year on the anniversary of their brush of death.. Dick make sure he calls, Jason to talk to his little brother and every time Jay acts immensely annoyed.. Though Dick knows the truth.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Where My Kisses At? (NSFW 18+)

First Lady of Private Garden Blurb

AN: pure smut 🥰🥰

Synopsis: Cleaning up in the Harlow household is looking a little different tonight when Jack decides that he wants his wife as his dessert

Requested by: the gorgeous @nattinatalia 💕

First Lady of Private Garden Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Do not engage if you are not 18+

You and Jack were cleaning up the kitchen and you had just finished drying off the last plate.

You opened the cabinet to put it on the second shelf as Jack was sweeping behind you. He reached up to help you since you couldn't quite reach the shelf and went back to what he was doing.

Next thing you knew, he had picked you up and sat you on the counter, but instead of him giving you kisses like he normally did, he just continued sweeping leaving you pouting and confused.

"Babe!" You exclaimed while crossing your arms and looking at him.

"What's wrong mamas?"

"You sat me up here and didn't even kiss me like you normally do. We aren't breaking up right?"

"What the? Seriously? I sat you up there because you were in my way and it would have been harder for me to sweep around you then to just move you. You know good and well that's not ever going to happen."

"Well, where my kisses at?" You asked while still pouting.

Just then Jack came over to you and placed several kisses on your lips and you eagerly kissed him back while trying to wrap your legs around him but before you could, he broke the kiss so that he could continue cleaning.

You made a motion to hop down off of the counter, but hearing Jack's voice quickly stopped you. 

"Where you think you're going, baby?"

"Uh, to bed?" You said while looking at the clock in the kitchen which read 11:46 PM.

"Not yet. Stay up there until I tell you otherwise."

"For what? Come on babe I'm sleepy." You whined while looking at him confused.

Jack put the broom back into the closet and came over to you while looking down and smirking.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You asked while trying to hide in Jack’s chest but he wasn't having any of it.

"Nope, we not doing that. Look at me."

You did as you were told and Jack simply kissed your nose making you smile.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"Then you love me enough to stay up here for a few more minutes?"

"Yes, but you never told me why." You answered while placing your arms around his neck.

"I can show you better than I can tell you. Besides since you were patient I'm going to give you a lot more than kisses. It's only right that I get my dessert."

"Wait, what?"

Just then Jack dropped down to his knees while spreading your legs apart and bringing you closer to him. It helped that you were wearing your pink robe with nothing underneath for easy access.

He took one long lick and your hands immediately went into his hair.

"Mmm, baby." 

"You planned this shit didn't you? Not wearing anything underneath?"

"No. I promise I didn't. Besides, when do I ever?"

Jack simply raised his eyebrows at you before diving back in to lap at your folds.

He inserted two fingers in you while beginning to suck on your clit knowing that in less than 2 minutes you would be coming undone in front of him.

"Shiiiit. Baby, right there, stay right there."

Your hand was now covering your mouth, but Jack quickly reached up to put your arm down and you proceeded to put it back in his hair. 

"Hmm my baby is close and I can tell. Come on and cum all over my face." 

You did as you were told and Jack stayed in between your legs as you rode out your high.

By now your juices were running down Jack's chin and he quickly ran his fingers alongside side of it as well as his mouth before motioning to you to open up your mouth to suck on them which you quickly did. 

"See how good you taste, baby? And you wonder why I always want you to sit on my face." Jack smirked as you quickly helped him up to his feet so that you could kiss him.

Jack then undid your robe and let it fall off of your shoulders taking in the sight of you in front of him while he quickly undid his pants and quickly let them as well as his boxers pool at his ankles. 

You spread your legs a little wider in order to give him some room when he slowly slid into you making you both moan out in pleasure.

Jack was now placing kisses all along your neck as he moved in and out of you.

"That's my good girl. Take that shit, baby."

By now you had wrapped your legs around Jack and he took this as an opportunity to increase his pace leaving you more breathless by the second and you knew that he was close.

With both of you releasing at the same time, you lightly pushed Jack away from you and dropped to your knees while taking him in your mouth.

"Shit! Baby, wait a minute!"

Jack was still twitching in your mouth and you had caught the remnants from when he first released on the back of your tongue.

You quickly shook your head no and continued to move him in and out of your mouth while also using your hand for where your mouth couldn't reach.

Jack had now put your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he threw his head back in pleasure. 

"You always look so pretty when you have me in your mouth. You take me so well, baby." 

Not even a minute later, you felt him twitching in your mouth again and anticipated him releasing.

"Baby…." Jack said while looking down at you and you quickly nodded your head. 

You felt the first drop hit the back of your throat and quickly swallowed it knowing that more would soon follow behind it.

Some of his cum had spilled out the sides of your mouth and went onto your boobs, but you quickly took them up to your mouth to suck it off keeping eye contact with your husband the entire time.

Jack was looking down at you in amazement and could feel himself getting hard again.

He brought you up towards him to kiss you and you gladly accepted it. 

Jack slid his boxers and pants back up before helping you put on your robe and kissed both of your cheeks.

"You wanna move this upstairs so we can have round 3? You claimed you were tired but what you just did is telling me otherwise."

"You know I always find the energy when it comes to you."

"Then I need you in front of the mirror in the walk-in closet. I want you to watch me fuck the shit outta you."

Taglist:

@cmalass @a-moment-captured @alinaharlow @neon-lights-and-glitter @harlowcomehome

[strangerqueerthings]

The Camaro

Neil was adamant: Billy had to get his own car if he wanted to go anywhere that wasn't school, and he had to pay for it himself.

Billy was equally adamant that he was going to get his hands on one.

So he worked his ass off, starting at the age of thirteen. He started small and local, mowing lawns, or offering to help elderly neighbors with grocery shopping- and bringing them in for them afterwards.

The latter got him far more pinched cheeks than he wanted, but when he laid on the charm, he was paid well.

To his delight, an elderly neighbor, Mister Grant, gifted him with a bike. His grandson never visited anymore now that he was in college, and Billy had been so helpful with the yard work, so he was happy to give it to him.

Billy kept the bike at Mister Grant's, afraid that Neil would take it away, or worse, destroy it or give it away- if Neil knew that he'd been given something like a bike, he'd accuse Billy of being weak by accepting charity.

The bike opened up entirely new venues of work, expanding his reach. More work offers, thanks to the bike, and his work ethic- which was talked about, spread by word of mouth.

All the while, he checked out car maintenance books from the library, rode his bike to the closest mechanic and volunteered to help, in exchange for the mechanics explaining what they were doing, so he could learn as much as he could about cars.

By the time he was sixteen, three years of working in the sun, doing manual labor, Billy was tanned, fit, and had plenty of money to start searching for something even better than a bike.

His first car.

Billy had never even dared to dream about getting a new car, even a relatively new used car. He'd saved up nearly 1,500 dollars, had it hidden in various places to keep it out of Neil's reach, going to the bank to swap out coins and singles for bigger bills so it'd be easier to hide.

He had finally brought the bike to the house. He told Neil he'd bought it used, to help him get more work, and Neil had almost been pleased at his work ethic- but as Billy had expected, it was taken away as punishment whenever Billy pissed him off.

He browsed the sale pages in the newspapers, kept his ear to the ground for deals, and finally, a few months after his birthday, Sid told him a cousin was selling his Camaro.

"It's kinda shitty," he drawled, exhaling clove cigarette smoke into the summer air. "He swiped a few cars and a mailbox with it, so it needs body work. He also didn't do a lot maintenance on it, and it's a 79, so... yeah. He's selling it for cheap."

"Does it run?" Billy asked. That was all that mattered, really.

"Yeah," Sid said, nodding. "It runs, it just... it's a mess. Real fixer upper."

Billy hadn't minded in the least. He'd wanted something with horsepower, something that would be loud, go fast, but he'd suspected he'd get something rusted and slow with the money he had.

"How much?"

Sid shrugged.

"I think he said 900 or so, but you know... you could probably haggle."

Billy did just that. He ignored the scratches and dents- they were all cosmetic. What he pointed out were all the mechanical issues- just like the guys at the mechanics had told him.

'College kids who have something like a Z28? They don't know shit about cars, just the model,' Bert had said, and had showed him what to look for, and told him what to say to bluff his way into a reduced price.

"I don't know," he said, putting the dusky blue car into park after a test drive. "That clunk? That's a CV joint- either I'd have to replace the boot, or the entire front axle."

He popped the hood and got out, peering into the guts of the car he already wanted more than anything in his life- save for freedom from Neil. He winced audibly, a sharp, hissing intake of air through his teeth.

"Yeah, I dunno," he said, folding his arms over his chest. "The serpentine belt is starting to look a little frayed. I'd have to replace that before disaster hit."

He pulled the dipstick out, examining it, making a show of sniffing the oil on it, and made an overly exaggerated face.

"When's the last time you changed the oil, man? It smells burnt."

Derek looked taken aback, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Honestly... idunno," he said helplessly.

Billy replaced the dipstick, closed the hood with a loud clang and dusted his hands off.

"Yeah I dunno," he repeated. "Nine hundred bucks can get me a car that isn't riddled with issues- mechanical OR body."

"It's a Z28, man," Sid's cousin said, scowling.

"Yeah, but she's nearly fifteen years old, and she's been poorly maintained- and I'm being generous," Billy retorted. "I'd be better off saving up for another three years for something better than getting this heap. It'd cost me nine hundred to fix all the shit that's wrong with her."

Derek was quiet for a bit, and Billy shrugged, moving to pick up his bike and head home.

"Eight hundred," Derek blurted.

Billy paused, making a show of consideration.

"Six hundred."

"Seven hundred."

"Six fifty, and you write the bill of sale as five hundred so I don't pay as much on the title fees."

Derek sighed, defeated.

"Done."

Derek wrote out the bill of sale, and filled out the title. They both signed where appropriate, and Derek handed the title and keys over to Billy, who fought to keep his hands from shaking as he took them.

Registering the Camaro would have to wait- he couldn't take her home as she was. He took her to the shop, where Bert congratulated him on his haggling, and enthusiastically offered to help him fix her up.

By the time October came around, Billy pulled up at home in the Camaro, and Neil came outside, clearly surprised at the car his son had managed to find.

She was perfect.

He and Bert had changed out her fluids and filters, put new tires on her, replaced her old serpentine belt, put in a whole new front axle, and had hammered out and smoothed out the dents and scratches.

She looked good as new, gleaming in the driveway.

Billy handed him the title and bill of sale, showing him how much he'd paid, and Neil had immediately held out his hand for the keys.

"You may have paid for it, but legally, you can't own it until you're 18," he said. "When you turn 18, it's all yours, provided you don't do anything stupid."

Billy's heart sank, but he knew it was going to happen. He placed the keys in Neil's open palm, watching his father's fingers curl around them.

"I'm not going to ask how you got the money for a car that looks this good."

"She didn't," Billy blurted. "I worked on her. I fixed her up. She's been at Bert's. Bert helped me learn how to work on her, so I can maintain her upkeep without using my money for someone else to do it."

Neil glanced at the Camaro again, his look appraising, critical.

"And here I was worried that you'd learned nothing."

He turned to go back into the house.

"Glad to learn I was wrong."

Billy didn't dare read too much into it, but he could have sworn there was a note of pride in Neil's voice. It made the affection he felt for his new car swell in his chest.

Neil may have taken ownership of her for now, but he hadn't been mad. He hadn't punished Billy for taking initiative.

For once, he'd done something right, and the proof of it sat on four wheels, gleaming like a beacon of freedom in the driveway.

[daddypriceugh]

Favourite nurse part. 2

First of all I want to apologise for the late update. I got the flu 2 weeks ago and wasn't motivated to write anything.

I'm really sorry for the wait but I made this chapter longer :) it's smut <3 I'm not good at writing it but I tried. Have fun!!!

Tw: smut

*****************************

"It won't fit Simon"

"I'll make it fit"

You may ask how you got into this situation, well let's see:

♤Flashback♤

"One shot for me and the lady" A voice said over the loud music in the pub. A voice you would recognise anywhere: it was Gho- Simon. But he didn't wear a mask this time.

It's been two week since you last saw him because he actually didn't turn up at the hospital. To your suprise.

You had kind of missed him. Especially the way his eyes would follow every move you would make. It made you nervous but also aroused. Would he look the same at you when naked?

You were ripped out of your thoughts by the shot being placed on the table in front of you.

"Didn't think I would see you here, Doc"

A small laugh escaped your red tinted lips.

"Well I love surprising people I guess" He hums in agreement.

"You were able to stay unharmed. Got my respect"

He chuckled at your words, gulping down his shot.

"Well I was forbidden to come back, wasn't I" he turned his head in your direction, eyes staring into yours. There was something calm in them but also something you couldn't decipher what it was.

A small formed on your face. "I didn't forbid it, I just don't want to see you hurt. Can't judge me for doing my job"

He opened his mouth to answer but a chair was suddenly thrown through the bar. A fight broke out.

Simon had grabed your hand in less than a second and pulled you to the exit. The fresh and cold night air hit your face.

"You wanna go to my flat?"

His random question shocked you for a moment. Did he want to continue the talk? Or maybe...

"Yeah sure" ~~~~~~~~~~~ You now sat on his couch while ge was grabbing some wine.

His flat was a bit bland. There weren't many pictures or plants, the furniture was modern yet classic. It all suited him well.

He came back with two glasses of wine and sat down next to you, putting the glasses on the table.

It was quiet.

You looked at him, only to see him already starring at you. Fuck was he hot. You could already feel yourself getting warm. Well more like your vagina.

A minute went by and none of you broke the eye contact, and you couldn't take this tension anymore. 'Fuck it' you thought and grabbed his face between your hands to smash your lips on his.

He didn't seem surprised because he instantly kissed back. The once gentle kiss became faster and more desperate. You lifted yourself on his lap to grind against him, feeling his hard erection in his jeans.

He let out a soft moan at your movement, putting his hands on your waist to help you guide.

"Do you want this?" He asked with a breathy voice. You nodded yes and pulled your shirt off.

You smirked a little at his reaction, knowing it was because of the lack of your bra.

"Dirty girl" he growled, his mouth latching onto one nipple, pulling and biting it a bit. You moaned in response, quickening your pace.

Once he let go of your breast, his hands wrapped around you to lift you up. He carried you to his bedroom, throwing you on the bed.

"Never thought I would see you like that, doc" "Shut up and fuck me already" He laughed at your response.

"Your wish be my comand"

Your pants and panties were down in a second and his fingers were feeling your wet lips. You bit back a moan at the feeling.

"So wet for me already tz tz. Don't even have to prepare you, mh?"

He slipped two fingers inside your folds and groaned. He then began to move them in a slow pace.

"Fuck your so tight, my love. So thight and wet for my fucking cock"

His fingers sped up and he added another on inside. He curled them a bit and looked at you to see your reaction. You were a moaning mess under him. Sweat dripped down your forehead and your nipples were hard. You felt your first orgasm nearing.

"C'mon baby cum for me. I can feel you clenching"

You came on comand and let out a loud moan. You never came that fast before.

He pulled off his shirt and pants to reveal his throbbing member. And damn was it big. Too big. It was long and thick, a bit curved to the right. Twp long veins went from the tips to the bottom. He looked fucking delicious.

Simon crawled on top of you and kissed you. It was gently and full of passion.

"Do you really want this? We can stop if you want" he said as he broke the kiss apart.

Your heart swelled at his worry.

"I want it. I want it with you Simon" You whispered. A smiles formed on his face.

"Then prepare yourself to get ruined"

He planted on hand on the right side of your head and the other went downwards to his dick.

He started rubbing it over your pussy, creaming himself in your juices. You moaned out in anticipation.

♤flackback ends♤

"It won't fit Simon"

"I'll make it fit"

At that he pushed his whole length into your hole. You half screamed at the intrusion, wrapping your legs around his waist, nails clawing into his back.

"You're so fuckin' tight love I can feel you trying to clench around my cock" He groaned.

You stayed in this position and he waited for you to give him the signal to continue. You did.

He put his hand on your waist and stared fucking you at a normal pace. Yet you could swear you felt every single edge and vein of his dick. It felt amazing.

After a while he decided to speed the whole thing up and started rubbing your clit. The moans that left your mouth only seemed to encourage him even more to move quicker.

But he himself wasn't quiet either. He let our small groand and huffs while pumping his dick into you. Minutes went by and you noticed his moved becoming more frantic.

"Fuck I'm close, where do you want it?"

"Inside pl-please"

You could also feel you high coming nearer ever time he ramed into you.

And there it was. Your walls clenched around him and your stomach thighend. You came with a scream which was half muffeled by his mouth capturing yours.

"Fuck sweetheart y-you made a mess" he laughs while trying to chase his own orgasm. He sped his pace up again.

"Fuck fuck fuck"

He then came with a groan and nearly collapsed on you. He pulled out and layed down besides you.

After some seconds of peace you were pulled into his arms, lips touching your hairline.

"You did so well for me. I'm proud of you, my girl"

"Weren't bad yourself, big guy" You said while smiling.

He laughed breathlessly and slowly got up. Your puzzled look at his action made him open his mouth. "I'm gonna grab a towel and clean you up okay? After that we can sleep a bit"

You nodded tiredly "Yeah sound nice" Simon bended over to give you one last kiss before leaving the room.

You breathed out in satisfaction. "Fucking hell"

[sweaterweatherever]

can you please write something for ajax x reader…like anything pls

Gorgeous (Ajax Petropolus x Reader)

Pairing: Ajax Petropolus x Fem Reader.

Warnings: Mention of getting high and underage drinking. Cursing. Reader is a bit of a hot mess in this one, guys.

Requested: Yes (Kind of)

A/N: I have always wanted to write something related to Gorgeous, because is one of my favourites songs. So when I saw the request for anything Ajax, I couldn’t help myself. Hope you like it, anon. I had so much fun writing this, but I kept it short because I will be rewatching Wednesday to get a better grasp on him. Remember, REQUESTS are OPEN

You walked out of the classroom, carrying your fencing uniform neatly folded. Your fencing sucked so much, it was funny. You took it in stride, though. Every time you got your ass handed to you, and it was often, surrounded by good fencers as you were, you laughed it off. It really infuriated Wednesday and Bianca, but it endeared you to the rest of your classmates.

"I just can't understand how you are so talented at everything and fuck up so spectacularly here." Bianca said, walking towards you. She had her own uniform folded as neatly as yours, carrying it under her arm. You weren't offended, knowing it was only teasing. Her pretty eyes glittered with amusement.

"I just don't have the talent for it." You shrugged, and gave her a smile.

"You need practice." Bianca pressed, her tone turning more serious. The downside of being her friend was that Bianca was a doer, and you were a watcher. She saw problems and solutions, fixing everything she thought was wrong. Sometimes, you clashed about it, because you preffered to let some things be. "You can do it, you are just lazy." She tried for an encouraging tone, but her words made you grimace anyways. You hoped she didn't want to be a doctor, because her bedside manner would be awful.

"Don't listen to her Y/N!" Xavier yelled, a bit further down the hallway, but close enough to hear your conversation. He was walking with Ajax, and seeing him made your heart suddenly beat faster in your chest. "She is just salty because you beat her in the pop quiz."

"Thanks, Xavier." You approached them, letting Xavier put an arm around your shoulder and place you a little behind them. Next to him, Ajax smiled at you, making something flutter in your stomach.

"I'm sure you will do better next time." Ajax tried to console you, putting an arm around your shoulder too and sandwiching you between the two boys. You quickly ducked their arms and jogged back to Bianca, before he could see your blush.

"Girl, you know I support you no matter what, but this is getting ridiculous." Bianca took the fencing uniform from you, dissaproval clear on her expression. She snuck a glance at Ajax and lowered her voice. "Poor guy thinks you hate him. When are you going to put an end to this?"

"It's better this way." You answered, fully convinced of it. This way, you avoided embarassing yourself in front of him for something you couldn't help. Besides, it wasn't worth it. Your little crush wasn't only unrequieted, it also wasn't going anywhere. "It's too late to stop now and, besides, he is too hung up on Enid to care."

"And denial is just a River in Egypt." Bianca muttered, and you pretended not to hear it. She walked away, and tapped Xavier on the shoulder. You hurried to get out of the corridor, just in case Ajax, suddenly left alone, decided to approach you. It was hard, because every time you saw him, you wanted to blurt out your feelings, and you didn't want the humiliation. Ajax was so cute and kind, you didn't want to make things even more awkward.

You would find out what Bianca and Xavier were up to later anyway, when she inevitably told you. The advantages of sharing a room with your bestie, you guessed.

And because you knew her so well, you weren't surprised when Bianca told you. What surprised you was the theme of your conversation, because you had been expecting them to get back together or planning some kind of party, not this.

"I just find it exhausting, you know?" Bianca said to you, applying a bit of highlighter on her brow bones. She looked so pretty it was unfair. You wanted to hate her for it, but she was too nice. "I have to see you two go at it every day, with all the pinning and your embarrassment when you inevitably put your foot in your mouth. At first, it was funny, but now it's getting pathetic. But don't worry, I am such a good friend that I fixed it for you."

"You did?" You asked, checking your mascara. You were getting ready for a Nightshade reunion, which really meant you were going to get high or drunk with the rest. You weren't going to bother with something more complex, but you wanted to look nice. Not for Ajax, of course, but you weren't going to talk to him. But, just in case.

"Yeah. Xavier and I… talked. We are both sick of your pining."

You would have grilled her more, but she pulled a small bottle of her pulse and handed it to you. "For later." Bianca said. You didn't question it, because when she set her mind to something, nothing would change her curse of action. Bianca was an unstoppable force, and you weren't an immovable object.

You decided to go along with it. She was your friend, she wouldn't do anything with the potential of hurting you. If you knew what was coming, you would have argued more.

When Xavier asked you to go get some glasses he had left in his shed, having used them for his brushes and never giving them back, you thought nothing of it. Tonight there were more people than usual, and not only the core members. So off you went, and the moment you entered the shed, you came face to face with Ajax. Something turned in your stomach, realizing it was a trap.

"Y/N? I was waiting for Enid?" He said, and you scoffed. Of course. Of course, that was what they had used to draw them here. You turned around, hurrying to the door. You weren't fast enough, unfortunately. The door closed with a slam right in front of your face.

"Are those… chains?" Ajax asked, at the sudden rustling of something metallic. They were locking the door from the outside, you realized, with growing horror.

"Come on, guys, this isn't funny. " You said, voice trembling a little. You didn't want to be trapped here with him, you would prefer being skinned alive with a blunt knife instead. "Let us go."

"Not a chance in hell, lovebirds." Bianca's voice was full of glee. Oh, how much you hated her. You were going to make her pay. "See you tomorrow." And to add insult to the injury, she started whistling obnoxiously as you heard her walk away.

"Fuck." You said, sliding down the wall until you were sitting on the floor. You didn't know what to do. You pulled out your phone and sent a quick text to Xavier, but he ignored you, leaving you on read.

"So, do you have any idea what this is about?" Ajax asked. You stared at him. He looked cute tonight, having opted for a cream-colored hoodie underneath a black jacket. He was better prepared for the cold than you were, only in a spaghetti strap top and jeans. Fucking Xavier, who always had the windows open everywhere. Safety your ass. You hoped next time he got intoxicated by the paint fumes, and preferarbly invited Bianca. "Look, I know you hate me, you have made that pretty clear. You can sit in silence all night if you want, but if you know something, I have the right to know. "

"I don't hate you. " You scoffed, hugging your knees to your chest. The floor was cold, but there was nowhere else to sit, except for one stool that was so stained with paint you would end up getting dirty.

"You sure know how to show it." Ajax muttered, and took off his jacket and hoodie. "Here." He said, extending the hoodie to you. "I think you hate me, but would hate more being frozen cold by morning."

"Thanks." Your heart did a wild somersault at his kindness. The hoodie was warm, and smelled like him. You sighed happily at being enveloped by it, guiltily blushing after. "We are here because of you, you know?" You crossed your arms over your chest.

"Me?" Ajax asked, confused.

"Yeah." You rolled your eyes. He was cute, but god, he could be dense.“I think you can easily come to your own conclusion why we are here. You heard Bianca.”

“Bianca…as your bestie Bianca, who locked us here?” His eyes were avoiding your gaze, but that was common enough with him. He tended to be too shy to look people right in the eyes, self-conscious about his powers. It was endearing, but unnecessary. “I think you know her better than me.”

“Yeah, well, if you weren’t so fixated on Enid, you would know.” You muttered, and instantly regretted it. You tucked your knees closer to your face, using them to hide your face.

“Fixated on Enid?” Ajax repeated, puzzled. “I’m not fixated on her.”

“Oh god, you are dense.” You glanced at the ceiling, praying for divine intervention or at least a healthy dose of patience. “Forget it.”

“No, no. What do you mean?” He sat down next to you, staring at you with big, brown eyes and looking too much like a puppy for you to be comfortable.

“You are in love with Enid, Ajax. Trust me, you don't need me to explain your feelings to you.” Did you sound too bitter? Oh, you had to fix it. “Why do I always manage to put my foot in my mouth when talking to you? Bianca was right, it's getting pathetic.” You shook your head, regretting having left the bottle she had passed you in the Nightshades’s meeting room. To get through this alive, you would need loads of alcohol. ”Don't you have weed or something, so I can get myself high as a kite and forget about this?”

“I am not in love with Enid. We are friends!” He protested, frowning at you. You gave a bitter, unamused laugh.

“Save it, Ajax, really. I don't care about your love life.” You fucked up, and you knew it. You were a terrible liar, and you were sure your face was betraying you. In fact, you cared about his love life way too much for your own good. “Fuck it, you know what, let's get this in the open right now. I'm in love with you, congratulations.”

Ajax opened and closed his mouth. It was kind of adorable. A very faint blush appeared on his cheeks.

“You…are?” He asked. You got up and started to pace. Well, there was not chickening out now, you had already blurted out your feelings. This was exactly what you had wanted to prevent by avoiding him, because you were unable to control your tongue. Might as well woman up and accept the consequences.

“Haven't I just told you that?” You asked, irritated.

“But… You always avoid me… And you made fun of me when we met… I thought you hated me…” You risk a look at him, finding him still on the floor, brows furrowed in concentration.

“I can't control my mouth, as you can see. I make a fool of myself every time I see you. And for the record, I teased you because I thought you were cute.” You explained, pinching the bridge of your nose. “But, whatever. I know you don't like me. You are in love with Enid. This will pass, I know. I always get crushes and they go away. I thought I was crushing on Kent like, ten months ago, and it went away, don't worry… I…” You turned in the middle of your rant, finding you face to face with Ajax, who apparently had gotten up while you verbally vomited everything that was on your head. “Oh, I… I will get over it, I swear, I always…”

“Don't slap me, please.” Ajax said, and grabbed the pocket of his hoodie, pulling you forward.

“What are you even talking…?” Ajax cupped your jaw and kissed you. It was a soft, hesitant kiss, and you were so shocked by it, your mouth kept moving, still forming the words you were going to say, the sounds getting trapped by his mouth. Once you realized what was happening, you kissed him back, just as hesitant as him.

“You are in love with Enid.” You repeated, like a broken record, when you two parted.

“And I thought I was the dense one.” Ajax muttered, stroking your cheek gently. He had never looked more handsome, you thought. His eyes were shining with a teasing glint, and his mouth was curved into a pretty smile.

“I don’t understand… You are in love…” Ajax kissed you again, effectively shutting you up.

“Now,” He said, pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear. “You get it? Or do I have to keep kissing you?”

“Oh, I think you need to explain it to me a bit more.” You gave him a mischievous smile. “I'm not sure if I understand.”

[oddballwriter]

Polaroids

Summary: Steven takes on the chore of cleaning around the flat while you're away on a trip. But in the process, Steven accidentally finds some risqué, to say the least, photos of you hidden away. Although he tries to resist, not knowing if he's meant to see them or not, he caves in and has some fun with them.

Warnings: Pervert!Steven if you squint. Male masturbation. Post-nut clarity. Nude/suggestive photos of the reader. Gender-neutral/non-specified gendered reader. Mentions of cum and accidentally getting cum on things. Honestly, we're letting Steven be a little freak in this one. Joke-y kind of ending. Mentions of the reader and Steven have sex, are in a relationship together, and live together. If I find out that someone who's a minor or is below the age 18, you will be blocked, no hesitation.

Author’s Snip: One of the two things that I had in my poll that one in the tie. I hope you guys like it.

Notes: This is more so just Steven getting off to the reader but it's still smut. 

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 1,226

Just doing the laundry.

Such an innocent chore. Even more innocent in the context that Steven was doing both his and your laundry together so that you wouldn't have to handle it some other time since you've been busy with other things lately. You prefer to do it yourself but Steven saw no harm in taking a load off of you.

It wouldn't be until he was putting away the newly dried and folded laundry into your dresser that he found something, peculiar. When he was trying to put away some of your clothes in the bottom drawer that he knew you kept the clothes in he found a strange cluster in the back. At first, he thought that it was just some clothes that had been pushed into the back but when he grabbed them to fix them back they revealed a small box underneath.

"Strange." he thought to himself. He took it out to see what exactly it was, since a box randomly being in a drawer for clothes didn't make sense. It was a little paper box, like one that you buy for cheap but is still sturdy to hold things. He tried to think of what could be inside but couldn't come up with anything. In hindsight, he shouldn't be wondering about a box that was with your belongings, but it just seemed odd and out of place. Maybe he could just shake it a bit to get a clue and then he could leave it alone and probably forget about it.

But the rattle that the box made when it was shaken just made it more of an anomaly. It sounded like a few things were in there that were left loose inside. Again, he knew that he shouldn't be looking at things that you were clearly keeping private, but his curiosity was a strong thing and had convinced him that it wouldn't hurt to take a quick look. Maybe it was nothing and it was just something that was for some-

Polaroids.

Polaroids?

He took out one to get a look at one of them. Why would you hide some polaroid pictures in a box in one of your drawers-?

Oh...

They were of you, but they weren't normal.

Looking at the rest of them, they all were of you in varying positions and poses on a bed with either hardly any clothes or no clothes at all, and some were of you giving a sultry look at the camera or the person holding it that wasn't seen. Steven took a moment to look anywhere else but you on the polaroid, but when he did he saw a date written on one of them, and presumedly the date of when all of these... photos were taken. It was way before you met Steven, that's for sure.

Who knows how long Steven was staring at these photos of you till he snapped out of his stupor and realized that he was staring at photos that were actually personal, and most definitely not meant for him to see. After this epiphany, he scrambles to put the photos back in the box and then place the box back in the drawer. He also scrambled to put the clothes that he was originally meant to in.

He tried to walk away and ignore having seen anything along with ignoring the blood that was making his face red, and the blood that was feeding life into his new erection. But it was too late. He's opened Pandora's box. He's gained forbidden knowledge. He knows now that there is a box with actual physical pornography of you inside of it.

Steven tries everything. Reading a book, watching a movie, solving his rubix cube, listening to something, he even tries to take on another larger chore, but all he can think about is you and those photos. The man part of his brain keeps it in his awareness and he can't make it stop it's already got him going and with how much he's been moving around, his erection has been rubbing against his briefs and pants.

He felt perverted for giving in but if he didn't take care of it then it would be a nuisance for the rest of the day and get worse. After all, it would hurt to take the load off of himself just once. You didn't need to know. So he takes the box and photos back out and settles them on the bed with him as he unzips his pants and removes himself from his boxers. With one hand he holds out the photos and holds his length with the other, starting to slowly move it up and down.

The pace picks up after a while after he's allowed himself to just let himself loose to make it easier on him. Switching to a few more of the photos. There wasn't a whole lot so he took his time with them, letting himself stare at your body and eyes. God, your eyes were making it worse. You were giving the same eyes that you gave him whenever you two had sex, the same kind that always made him come quicker. His mind made him think of everything. Who were these originally for? Did you and the photographer have sex afterward? You would have to. No one can resist those eyes. God, what he'd give to be them. Never mind the fact that he is currently your boyfriend and sex in your relationship is very much alive.

Steven was a mess. All he could do was jerk himself off while staring at your photos and say your name through his panting and choked-back moans.

His end came faster than anticipated, but it wasn't until he had begun to come that he realized that he hadn't grabbed anything to cover the would-be-affected area on the bed.

Steven sighs in shame at his work cleans himself and puts everything back. He throws the covers of the bed into the washer and places new ones to get rid of his doings before sitting out on the couch until you eventually come home.

He gives his usual hello and you head into your shared bedroom to store your stuff away. He hopes that you brush off your done laundry and don't think anything, but after a minute you come back. And you have the damn box.

"Steven," you say. He doesn't have the chance to deny anything thanks to his red face giving it away and you can see that by the way you say "Okay." with a small nod. "I'm not mad." you clarify, "I'm flattered, really." you admit. "But next time, could you..." you try to say before you snicker at the situation, "Could you make sure that you keep them clean?" you finish off as you pull out one with a visible smudge on it. Steven nods, face still burning red from being caught, but he finds it in himself to say something.

"C...can I ask?" he says.

You seem to have already figured out the question and nod, "They're from an ex. He was artsy and stuff so we took these together. I took them after we broke up for safekeeping just in case." you explain.

"Don't worry we can buy our own Polaroid if you want some of your own." you teasingly joke.

[yourheartonfire]

"Well, isn't this a pretty picture."

The protagonist jolted up to - oh no. Jolted up from where they'd fallen asleep on the floor of the backshelves, books and notes scattered around them like some kind of nerd bomb had gone off. And the antagonist, their old rival, was standing over them, lamp in hand and that same stupid sneer on their face.

"Shit. I mean..." The protagonist shook their head, trying to clear the cobwebs. "What are you doing here?"

"I work here now," the antagonist said with narrowed eyes. "Which you'd know if you bothered to keep up with changes in your staff. The real question is what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be throwing a diplomatic reception or issuing royal commands or snoozing in the royal sheets?"

"You want a command?" The protagonist pushed themselves up. It was easy to put on the imperious mask when they were so tired and so irritated. "Help me clean this up. Then forget you saw me. Think you can handle that, Second Aide to Librarian?"

The antagonist's face was a study. But they put down the lamp with only a small whunk. "Yes, Your Majesty," they said and started scooping up books into a pile. The protagonist choked back a yawn as they sorted their scrawled pages of notes into piles. For a few moments they worked side by side in silence, the protagonist ignoring the looks the antagonist kept directing to the back of their head.

"I'm sorry... for your loss," the antagonist said stiffly. "I know you were close to Dax."

"Thank you," the protagonist said. It was a rote response now.

"The kingdom of Sterztan?" the antagonist said, rather more tentatively as they glanced at the title. "Don't you have people now to be experts for you?"

"Oh yes." The protagonist folded their notes into a neat stack. "The ambassador to Sterztan is one of my greatest allies on the council. And this morning she looked us all in the face and assured us that Sterztan would never pose a challenge to our metals imports."

The antagonist's brow wrinkled. Their fingers twitched towards the pages in their hands. "But... half Sterztan's economy is based on their silver trade."

"I know." The protagonist rubbed. "So my ally is either an idiot or a liar. Not the kind of research I can outsource to a secretary."

"Ah." The antagonist put down their books on a an empty shelving cart. "So of course you became hyper-obsessed over this and snuck off to waste a night researching something you already knew about Sterztan's economy."

"I didn't sneak anywhere," the protagonist snapped. "I am the crown-"

Abruptly the antagonist moved. Suddenly the protagonist found themselves crowded up against the shelves, the antagonist towering over them. "The crown," they said, "without their guards."

"How dare you!" The protagonist shoved the antagonist back. "Are you insane?"

"Are you?" The antagonist grabbed another book off the floor angrily. "You're our ruler now. I expect you to at least make better use of your time."

"But this is the only thing I'm good at!" the protagonist wailed. The antagonist froze in a half-crouch but the protagonist couldn't stop. Exhaustion and the unfairness of all it was too much. "I'm not supposed to be ruling anything; I was supposed to be here, doing research for Dax while he dealt with all the politics and rituals and lies-"

"Hey, hey, hey." The antagonist was crowding up against them again. But this time it felt... supportive? A warm hand on their back as the protagonist gasped for air through the panicked sobs. "You've got this."

"I really don't," the protagonist moaned. "God, I wish I were you. No that's not true. But I wish I had your job."

"There you go, that sounds more like you." The antagonist tugged at the protagonist's arm insistently, until the two were sitting side by side on the floor. "Okay. I'm going to write you a report."

"I already figured out the Sterztan thing," the protagonist sighed.

"Not about that. About every stupid mistake every great sovereign we've ever had made in their first year as the crown."

The protagonist wiped their nose on their sleeve. "That sounds horrible."

"It will be. But," the antagonist scooted closer. Their hand was still rubbing circles into the protagonist's back. It was weirdly soothing. "My point is that every great sovereign starts out green."

"Green like inexperienced, or green like constantly feeling that you're going to throw up?" the protagonist muttered.

The antagonist grabbed their hand. "I'm saying that once you compare where you are now against where our other sovereigns were in their first year, you're going to see that you're actually doing all right. I'm not going to lie, you're doing a lot better than I thought you would be."

The protagonist huffed a tired laugh. "That sounds... like a nice theory. Got the data to back it up?"

The antagonist quirked their lip. Not quite the same sneer. "Are you ordering up some midnight research?"

The protagonist hauled themselves to their feet. "Nope. You volunteered. I'll expect that report on my desk by tomorrow. That is, tomorrow tomorrow," they added. "Not in - oh, god, in six hours."

"Go to bed," the antagonist said, picking themselves up too. "Good night."

The report was on the protagonist's desk in 10 hours.

[bomberqueen17]

the saga isn't quite over yet tho

So, the kitchen. Well it still needs painting but also now I have to put everything away. We ate dinner Friday night over at dude's mom's house because all our food was there and also we didn't have chairs in the new kitchen yet.

Yeah. We gotta go find chairs.

First I want to start off with this detail.

[image description: a close-up of the white tiled wall, where it intersects with the ceiling, one of the cabinets, and the stainless steel vent hood over the stove. The tiles are staggered in a regular pattern, but there is a tiny, maybe half-inch-wide segment of tile next to the cabinet in every other row, which I know Jim had to painstakingly trim off and carefully adhere like that, so that it looks like the pattern goes behind the cabinet.] I pointed those out to Jim and said I loved them, and he smiled and said they were a pain in the ass but there's no other way to do it, and I said I would always always look at them and think about what a pain in the ass they had been to do.

Anyway. Friday evening we brought the cat over and she realized with delight she could not only get to her window but also then traverse the entire expanse of cabinet, daintily picking her way over the stove to go over the sink and stare out that window too. She's not likely to get into stuff and clearly did not enjoy crossing the stove, so I'm not super worried about her actually getting into trouble. We made do, sitting at the counter on a combo of the folding stool and dude's work chair which is adjustable to... not high enough but... well at least it's sort of comfortable.

There is a pile of very long trim pieces that is shoved into the living room and is sort of preventing use of about half the couch, so I didn't have anywhere else to sit all evening, lol. Good thing the chair was comfy, and I didn't totally mind it being too low.

But I was resolved that Saturday we were getting chairs somehow.

Saturday morning we got up and got ready, and discovered that our coffeemaker, a Mr. Coffee in excess of 15 years of age, had developed a fatal issue. Dude's mom only has a little one-cup Keurig and so we brought our machine over, and in the move it developed a crack in the pipe that brings water from the heating element to distribute it over the grounds. This is not really repairable. I had to kind of convert it from a drip to a pour-over, and stood there with the kettle carefully pouring water through the basket. RIP Mr. Coffee, you served us well and long.

Dude opened Wirecutter and looked up drip coffeemakers. He also researched stainless steel cleaners for me, and confirmed our itinerary with me.

We hit the road and got to Target before 9am. We got a bin to fit under the sink for recyclables, we got the last bits of shelf liner I still needed, we got a dish drainer (a nice, new, small one so we could retire the large decaying bamboo one we got also 15 years ago). We got hot glue sticks, randomly, because I need some. And we got the Cuisinart coffee maker that Wirecutter had said was the best drip coffeemaker for most people.

Then we went to Big Lots in case they had counter-height stools. They didn't.

Then we went to a different commercial region ten minutes away. (That's how it works, there are little clusters of shops along various roads and there's different ones in different areas. This other cluster also had a Target but an inferior one.) We went first to a plaza with a Petco, to get the special cat food Chita likes that isn't at the grocery store, and next door to that was a Harbor Freight, that sometimes has good rolling stools, but they did not have anything suitable. Next to *that* was a Raymour & Flanagan furniture store.

Well. When we entered the furniture store, we unwittingly passed through some kind of portal, as it was much larger on the inside than on the outside. We wandered, dazed and lost and slightly overheated; we sat in some chairs and they weren't quite right, those were too hard, these had nail head designs on the backs that dude didn't like, these were a dark wood that matched nothing in our house. The saleslady found us and asked to help, and we tried to show her the first ones we'd looked at, which had been sort of close to what we wanted, but we could not find them and roamed a long time, together with her, finding new rooms full of other furniture, lost and weary. Finally she just searched their website, and found that nothing answered the description we'd given her and that she was sure she'd also seen somewhere around here. She gave us her card, and we stumbled back out into the morning, feeling like we'd sojourned a thousand years in the fairy world.

We went to Homegoods, which I'd been to the week before, and they'd had some stools that I thought sounded a lot like what Dude was describing as his desired seating item. So I led him straight to them. They had a total of six stools in their display. Four of them were of one set. And Dude was like "Oh yeah! Just like that!"

So we pulled one out and sat on it, and it was comfortable enough, and the right height, and functional, so we said probably we should get these. And we went over and got some kitchen storage thingies, some lazy susans and a drawer organizer thing and whatever, but then we came back to these stools and there was an employee there and we asked her if we were supposed to just shove these in our cart or what and she was like oh hang on and got a guy from the back to come take them to the front, and he was like "your name's on 'em so just say those are yours when you check out". Bada-bing. We got two of them, apparently Nautica brand, which I've heard of but don't know anything about. Sure!

[image description: a view into the trunk of a hatchback (Subaru Forester), showing two gray-upholstered wooden stools crammed in 69-style to the left (in the progress of being crammed in, there's Dude's arm in the middle pushing the second one), and to the right is a Target bag and the box of a coffeemaker and the recycle bin and all the shit we got at Target jumbled into the corner.]

Triumphant, we set out for home, but there was another furniture store on the way home and Dude wondered if we ought to go see, just to see what they had. So we did, we went in and I beelined for the recliners.

See, the thing is, Dude's mom has a recliner in her living room. And it's the throne, where she watches TV. And Chita loves to sit on it, it's where she spent most of the time we were staying there. And I sat in it mostly because that's where the cat wanted to be, but oh wow, it was comfortable. And lo... when I stood up, my hip was in the right place, and there was no pain, unlike when I unfold myself from shrimping on the couch and have to put myself back together every time.

And yeah my general pain levels were way down the whole time we stayed there, even though the mattress is way too hard and ought to have fucked me up pretty good. And...

shit. I'm the kind of middle-aged that needs a recliner.

And they had one, at Ashley, and it was on sale for enough that the delivery fee and taxes still made it come out less than the sticker said. But they can't deliver it until late January. Which is fine because our living room is full of kitchen furniture and I have to finish putting all of it away.

So. New kitchen and also new living room furniture. But I'll worry about that later.

Now we could go home triumphantly and get started putting stuff away.

The chairs are yet another neutral, but it's a coordinating neutral, they kind of match the countertops, with a creamy-white kind of base color flecked in grays. We have made no progress thereby at choosing a color for the kitchen-- I had been prepared to accept a boldly-colored item and have to pick colors around it, but no. We remain classy, tasteful, and neutral, and I'm going to have to do something about it.

[image description: A bay window with a glossy countertop in front of it, and in front of that are a pair of counter-height stools, with cream-upholstered seats and backs, and wooden legs.]

I think I need a better lamp to go on this windowsill. There's plenty of lighting in the room, but no non-overhead light for this space, and nothing controllable from this end of the room. I'm vaguely considering a tiny chandelier if I can find such a thing, that would be fun.

I also think it would be fun to install some kind of art piece up there in that chunk of wall between the trim and the ceiling, you see that narrow band there? It's like six or eight inches by like. 48 inches. I'll measure it later. A slogan would be funny but I also just had the idea of like, a mini Bayeux tapestry only depicting some other kind of event, not sure what.

I'll put it on the list, LOL.

Anyway-- the really critical things are 1) that it turns out our gray kitchen coordinates beautifully with our gray cat, who is of course the most beautiful, and 2) our gray cat can hop up on these stools and thus is able to avail herself of Attention and Snuggles. (I had worried I'd have to get her a stepstool I'd have to then leave set up, so she could reach this window.)

[Image description: a gray and white cat is encircled within a man's arms on the kitchen counter, and has the back of her neck pressed against his face, her eyes closed in contentment.] She was rubbing her ear against his nose, which is a thing she for some reason loves to do.

So. All is well. I've been putting things in cabinets and taking them back out, and running everything I possibly can through the dishwasher, and to my astonishment haven't wrecked a thing yet I didn't intend to (I already know from being at my sister's that a certain category of plastic container will mostly melt in there but that's fine if you're just trying to get it clean to recycle it, it's not like it gets onto other things). And Dude realized the dishwasher has an app, so he paired his phone to it.

At Middle-Little sister's prompting, we've named the dishwasher Suds MacKenzie, since it lets you pick a name and that's the funniest one we could think of.

We retrieved our groceries from Dude's mom's house and cooked dinner and set off the smoke alarm so now we've really broken it in.

The stove is *really level*. For the record.